


Rise up with Fists

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Amnesia, Angst meter: I have no idea, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, F/F, I think high. I can't even remember writing this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2019-04-20 18:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 103,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14266674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is an amnesia story. Yes, I finally went there. Rachel and Quinn have a happy little life until an accident leaves Rachel with amnesia. This story shows how they got their nice little life before it was taken away (and the way they get it back) Warnings after cut.**Warnings: There a multi-ships, fair warning that this story has forays into: Quinn/Santana/Rachel, Santana/Brittany/Rachel, Mike/Quinn/Rachel, some Quinnana, some Cherry and a one-nighter between Cassandra July and Rachel. But it’s a Faberry endgame. It has some parallels to the current S4 storyline, but diverts on a few places.***The title takes its name from a song by Jenny Lewis.****TRIGGER WARNING FOR: A rape, referenced, not depicted. The act isn't depicted, but the events leading up to it are.





	1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Rise up with Fists  
**Author:** Sulkygeek  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Length:** 102,000 words  
**Spoilers:** Through Dynamic Duets (to be safe) but this is AU after the last season.  
**Summary:** This is an amnesia story. Yes, I finally went there. Rachel and Quinn have a happy little life until an accident leaves Rachel with amnesia. This story shows how they got their nice little life before it was taken away (and the way they get it back) Warnings after cut.

\---  
Warnings: There a multi-ships, fair warning that this story has forays into: Quinn/Santana/Rachel, Santana/Brittany/Rachel, Mike/Quinn/Rachel, some Quinnana, some Cherry and a one-nighter between Cassandra July and Rachel. But it’s a Faberry endgame. It has some parallels to the current S4 storyline, but diverts on a few places.

\---

Plagiarism warning: In here, I have a line about how people are like salmon. I read it somewhere, but I can't remember exactly where-- possibly in a short story by Etgar Keret, but I don't know because I also don't remember the exact quote.

The title takes its name from a song by Jenny Lewis.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR: A rape, referenced, not depicted. The act isn't depicted, but the events leading up to it are.

* * *

 

**Year: 2019**

This could not be happening.

It was completely outlandish. It was straight out of one of those soap operas Rachel absolutely refused to be on because she was _not_ a soap opera actress. She wanted to win a real Emmy, not a _Daytime_ Emmy.

But yes, it was happening, this was real.

Rachel got into a terrible accident, lapsed into a three month coma and emerged with a case of total amnesia.

Ridiculous.

Quinn knew that she should be grateful-- in the first awful hours after Rachel's accident, she asked God for Rachel just to live. The three month coma allowed Rachel to recover from the worst of her physical injuries, though she would need physical therapy. She had some muscle atrophy despite best attempts to stave it off. There would definitely be lifelong physical repercussions to the accident-- it would make Rachel more susceptible to a variety of infections and illnesses and her body would hurt and ache. Quinn knew this firsthand from her own car accident in high school which left her with a myriad of her own physical problems. It didn't get in the way of enjoying her life or anything, but it definitely diminished the quality a bit. She always came down with the flu during flu season and she'd yet to find a bed in which she could have truly restful night's sleep. She always woke up with a back ache, and it was likely Rachel would, too, now. Quinn wondered why her little family had such horrific luck with cars. Amnesia, was in fact, brain damage, but it wasn't brain damage in the neurologically-devastated- Terry-Schiavo sense and for that, Quinn was grateful.

Still, Quinn couldn't help thinking she should have been a bit more specific in her prayers, although she believed that if she'd asked for too much, then maybe God would have punished her for her insubordination by taking Rachel away entirely.

She was happy that Rachel was alive, but it hurt to see the lack of recognition in Rachel's face.

She'd prepared for the worst, and she knew this wasn't it. But it still pained her.

She knew something was amiss pretty quickly. Rachel always had a way of looking at her that made her feel warm inside. If they were separated by more than a few minutes, Rachel always smiled at her in a particular way when they were reunified. It disgusted their friends, but it felt good all the same. They were one of those couples that really couldn't tolerate separation, and they were both okay with that even if in this era that celebrated independence, their dependence on one another made them anachronisms-- objects of pity to be patronized. Other couples bragged about how they each had their separate lives that came together to mesh well. They had lives that were basically one which went against every words of wisdom regarding relationships.

Coming out of a coma was a slow thing-- it wasn't that instant eyes-open return to consciousness the way TV and films depicted. It was a slow thing with a lot of frail hope, impatience and disappointment. But once things settled, Quinn expected Rachel to look at her and well, at least recognize her. She didn't _expect_ that smile, but she was really hoping for it. That wide, toothy grin followed by a shy duck of her head because she was usually embarrassed for herself for being such a hopeless romantic followed by a slower, more rueful smile once she accepted she really was just that sentimental. So okay, maybe it wasn't so much the smile that Quinn was hoping for, but a return to routine, not that any smile from Rachel could ever truly be routine. But Quinn was hoping for that smile because it would have been a sign that everything was okay and after the last few months, Quinn really needed assurances that things would be okay.

Her heart sank when she didn't get that smile, and even before the doctors confirmed the amnesia, she just kind of knew.

Because what she got instead of love was a mixture of fear and curiosity.

And now, Rachel had been home for a couple of weeks and Quinn kept praying that life could go back to normal--but it wasn't happening.

Rachel didn't smile at her that way anymore. She still smiled, of course. It was clear she was trying to make an effort, which was achingly sweet and gave Quinn hope that her girl was still in there somewhere underneath the fear, confusion and anxiety. Quinn was trying to be unselfish and grateful for what she had, but it was painful. And Rachel was so eager to please, like some little kid, which made everything even more painful.

More than her own hurt, she ached for how terrified Rachel must be. She knew if she were in Rachel's shoes, she would be angry. Enraged, really. And she still knew Rachel well enough to know that Rachel _was_ angry and just hiding it. She could see it in the way Rachel's fists were perpetually clenched. The way she smiled tightly when she was frustrated instead of just expressing it.

And Quinn ached every time their children still earnestly looked at their mother, expecting their sweet, fun-loving mother who baked pastries at 3:30 am because she was too nervous to sleep (Rachel was the dictionary definition of a worrywart mother). Their kids kept looking for their mama who romped around with them in the park pretending to be a tiger, but got a hesitant stranger instead. And that stranger wasn't in any kind of physical condition to romp around with them anymore.

To add to Quinn's stress, Mike temporarily moved into the city to help her with the kids. Tina said it was okay, but it probably did not help their marriage that Mike moved across the country to help the mothers of his three children.

Quinn was glad for the help-- Mike was an amazing dad and she sometimes wished their trio could have worked out, even if the thought of truly sharing Rachel romantically with another person for the rest of their lives was sort of unthinkable. And anyway, it worked out for the best, because she had Rachel and Mike had Tina. But Quinn didn't want to be responsible for someone else's relationship ending-- she was barely holding onto her own, so she worried about the state of Mike and Tina's relationship and she kept apologizing to both of them for it, even though they both told her to stop.

Abby was having the hardest time with it. She was the oldest, but she was still only five years old. She was just old enough to know something was really wrong, but not old enough to truly understand it. At least Ben and Sarah were toddlers, so even if they were clearly confused by everything, they were usually easily distracted by something shiny or something ridiculous like an overly dramatic sneeze or... tator tots.

At least Rachel was awake now and could hold them. When she was in the coma, they'd cry for her and were inconsolable without her. They'd reach out to the framed pictures of Rachel scattered around the apartment, arms above their heads, as if Rachel could come out of the picture and hold them.

At least now, they could be appeased by a cuddle, which mercifully, Rachel was always happy to oblige-- she wasn't that different, just confused, frightened and unable to remember. Quinn had heard of amnesia patients who essentially became teenagers or completely different people. Rachel was still Rachel even without the memories-- she still had her goodness underneath. She seemed drawn to the soundtracks of Broadway musicals which simultaneously comforted Quinn and made her want to roll her eyes. She favored vegetables and fruits and tended to avoid meat. Rachel dropped veganism in college, but she still didn't eat very much meat. She still got up at the crack of dawn, so living with this version of Rachel wasn't like living with a total stranger.

But frighteningly, Quinn could see that Rachel found the kids more of a curiosity, and God, that hurt so much-- the way Rachel looked at their three children like they were oddities rather than people to be loved. It was like Rachel could make the cognitive connection that these were their children and treated them accordingly, but she couldn't make the emotional connection. They were building one, but it wasn't innate the way it had been. Rachel seemed to like the kids, but Quinn didn't feel the sense that Rachel loved them and that terrified her.

Rachel put the kids' interests ahead of her own, but it was only because she was an adult. In terms of actual feeling, she was different. Ben and Sarah really weren't aware of anything, and even if they seemed to sense something was wrong, they could be easily distracted. They were only two anyway. But Abby did seem very aware, and even if she was only five, she definitely understood how different her mother was, and heartbreakingly, Abby tended to avoid Rachel if she could. Abby seemed hesitant to be alone with Rachel and the only time Abby seemed really comfortable around Rachel now was when Quinn was around, too. It didn't take much to appease any of the kids-- usually just a cuddle because they really had missed their mother. But there was no way to avoid the fact things had changed.

Still, Quinn could be appeased by a cuddle, too. Because at least Rachel was awake, breathing and talking. And even if things weren't the same, it was better than crying and wondering if and when Rachel would ever wake up. It was better than having to comfort Abby after she'd come home crying from kindergarten because some older kid at the elementary school told her that her mama was going to die. It was better than having Ben and Sarah scream they wanted mama to give them the bath, not her and wanting to scream back that she'd let mama give them the bath if she could.

This was _better_

This was so much better than what they had when Rachel was 'sleeping,' but so, so much worse than what they had before. It was a sad, sad mimeograph.

She found herself wondering a lot how they were going to get through this.

Rachel's basic motor functions were good, but she required physical therapy because of muscle atrophy and the damage she sustained in the accident. Her fine motor skills definitely needed work. Rachel could remember how to brush her teeth-- circular pattern, not too rough, but she struggled with the grip on her toothbrush-- though that would come with time. She claimed she still knew how to drive, but no one on earth was willing to allow her to test out _that_ little theory. She wasn't even driving at the time of the accident-- she was a passenger in a taxi, but everyone joked that Rachel's bad driving caused a trickle down effect. So, even if she could _probably_ remember how to drive, she definitely could not remember who taught her. She also tired easily and had very little stamina.

It was just a lot of to take in. Quinn knew Rachel was frustrated and scared, which made the whole thing even more devastating. She'd find Rachel in the living room watching home videos and combing through pictures. She was doing her best to remember. She was a stranger, but she was still Rachel, some vital, intrinsic part of her was still there.

Rachel may not have remembered she was a rising Broadway starlet, but she still approached life like it was a math problem that needed to be attacked with diligence and ingenuity. Quinn's heart broke a little because they were just getting their lives back on track. Yes, Rachel's life plans were slightly pushed back with an unplanned pregnancy at 19 and then another at 22, but that was the thing about Rachel-- she never let anyone or anything get her down. Sometimes she might get a little derailed, but she always got back on track. When she had her heart set on something, nothing was going to hold her back.

But this was _different_.

\--

Quinn used to think the hardest parts were behind them.

They were in college when they got together, and their coupling was…messy. It's not that their relationship had a lot of drama-- it was actually surprisingly and refreshingly drama-free. By the time they graduated high school, they could both admit they cared about one another. They kept in regular contact through texts, emails, and Skype. They had some kind of contact at least daily. And they saw each other pretty regularly, too, through the metro passes that Quinn purchased for them.

But well, when they got together, there was a lot going on and when they were able to make it through all that--when they were able to get past the bullshit of their high school years and the make it through the heartbreak and tribulation of their college years, Quinn thought the worst was done.

She was, of course, wrong.

\--

Two weeks after Rachel was able to come home from the hospital, Brittany and Santana were over the apartment for a visit. No one was in a good mood, but Brittany and Santana were devoted to their friend. Still, putting the needs of an entire family ahead of their own did wear on them.

It'd been a rough day-- Mike and Tina got into a fight over the phone because Mike hadn't been home for in over four months, and Tina missed him. Mike missed her, too, of course, but he wanted to be with his children during the ordeal and Mike and Tina had no children of their own, so Tina became less of a priority, which was difficult in any relationship. It was frankly shocking Tina was so good about it until now. Besides, not only did Mike love his kids, he loved Rachel and Quinn, too. Things between the three of them didn't work out-- the polyamorous relationship thing only worked for a while, until they realized that a relationship with two people was hard enough-- having a third was setting them up for failure. Now they had the joy of caring for one another without the drama of being together.

That day was rough for Rachel, too. She had a difficult physical therapy appointment in the morning which left her achy and frustrated, which set the tone for her entire day. Her physical therapist was a tyrant who frequently made Rachel cry out of frustration and anger. Ultimately, the ends did justify the means. After all, she was healing quickly and she knew pushing her limits without going over them fueled her speedy recovery. Apparently, she'd always healed quickly, but she wondered if she'd always been nicknamed 'Wolverine' or if it was a recent nickname. She wanted to ask, but every time she asked questions like that, no one could quite hide the look of pain from the reminder that she couldn't remember.

Quinn had a bad day at work-- she had a recurring role on a TV show, but she was preoccupied by thoughts of her girlfriend and children. She was professional about it whilst working-- she expected nothing less from herself and Rachel would want that. But she just wanted to go home, and she wished that they didn't need the money so badly. Before the accident, she and Rachel were both still establishing themselves as actresses, but they both found enough stable work to be financially comfortable. At the time, Rachel was working on a play that was currently one of the most popular Broadway plays that season. She wasn't the star, but she had a significant role and the financial compensation was good. Of course, as a result of the accident, Rachel could no longer participate. It broke Quinn's heart because the role was being hailed as Rachel's true breakthrough role-- she was lauded by everyone. She'd had a number of roles for which she received a great deal of praise, but this was the role that could have tipped her toward leading roles-- the buzz around Rachel was that great. There was Tony nomination buzz for the show and specifically for Rachel. This could have been the that could have paid off what Rachel worked so hard for, but instead, a drunk driver took all of that away.

Quinn had been filming a pilot at the time, but she had to step down from the role as well. She had a girlfriend and kids to worry about. She had no regrets about that-- family would always, _always_ come first, but their finances took a hit, even with Mike stepping up even more financially with the kids. She called Mike from the hospital the night of the accident when Rachel's prognosis was grim and he was by her side less than twelve hours later. He took the earliest flight he could and he'd stayed by their side. Quinn knew Mike was staying with them solely to help out with the children. No matter how much she tried to tell him he didn't have to give up his life in LA to help her out, he wouldn't listen to her. He'd found a job on a dance-related TV reality show that filmed nearby to earn more income-- and nearly all of it went to the kids. Any time Quinn tried to thank him, he always waved her off, and told her that he was being a dad.

By the time Quinn picked up the kids from daycare that day, she'd missed Rachel and their babies the whole day. Abby was in kindergarten and her teacher called her up in the middle of the day because Abby was missed her and was upset. Ms. Gordon was lenient with Abby since she knew about Rachel's accident, so Quinn was glad Ms. Gordon called her up so she and Abby could talk. But she had to listen to her baby crying down the telephone line and it went on for long enough that she was needed back on set, so she had to be sharper with Abby than she wanted to be to get off the phone, when all she wanted to do was hold her baby close against her. She was so fucking paranoid about the kids now, after what happened to Rachel. And she was already paranoid about cars to begin with ever since her own accident. She felt like a piece of crap as a parent. Then later, she had a break from filming, so she checked in with the daycare while they were picking Abby up from school to take her to the daycare to join Ben and Sarah, and she was able to speak with Abby, but her little girl sounded cautious and wary which killed her because Abby was totally Rachel's kid--Rachel used to do the same thing when Quinn would get unreasonable and snap at her.

At least it was a Friday. Quinn was over the week, and she didn't have to be on set tomorrow, so she just wanted to be with her family and pretend like she wasn't going through all this awful shit.

By the time Quinn and the kids got home, Mike was back at the house from his dancing gig and Santana and Brittany were there waiting. Rachel looked composed despite her own tough day-- that was the thing about the old version of Rachel and this version of Rachel. She always tried to keep her best face forward. Ben and Sarah ran to Rachel and leaped into her lap, smothering her face with kisses before moving on to greet Mike with shrieks of "Daddy" and then leaping onto Santana and Brittany.

But oh, Abby. Abby greeted Mike first with a "Hi Daddy" and then hugged Santana and Brittany. Normally she would have cuddled up against Rachel-- Abby loved everyone, but she'd always sought Rachel out. She was a real Mama's girl. But ever since Rachel came out of the coma, and it became clear Rachel had no memory, Abby seemed more afraid of Rachel than anything else-- which was fucking heartbreaking because Rachel would have killed herself for Abby. The two of them had a particularly close bond which seemed like it ceased to exist.

Rachel put her arms out. "Come here, Abby," she encouraged with a wide smile, trying to cajole Abby closer.

Abby clung to Quinn and hesitated.

"Go on, baby," Quinn murmured, gently nudging Abby closer.

Quinn could feel her daughter tremble in her arms before Abby finally took a step closer to Rachel. Then Abby took a deep breath and walked to Rachel, cautiously taking a seat next to Rachel. It'd only been a month since Rachel woke up from the coma and only two weeks since she'd been released from the hospital to come home. Abby inherited Rachel's sweetness, but Quinn's cautiousness. It was a combination that continually broke Quinn's heart, especially lately.

"Hi Mama," Abby greeted quietly.

"Hi Abby," Rachel said warmly.

Abby hesitated for a moment before she crawled into Rachel's lap-- her rightful place Quinn thought.

Quinn watched as Rachel nuzzled Abby's cheek and her heart ached because she'd seen Rachel do the same thing countless times before, but Rachel couldn’t remember all of those other times. Abby giggled and buried her face into Rachel's neck.

Abby adored Rachel. Quinn could see how badly their daughter wanted to believe that Rachel was still Mama, even if she couldn't remember anymore. But it wasn't exactly easy-- they'd taught Abby about 'stranger danger' and in the aftermath, Rachel did become a stranger, albeit a benign one with her mother's face. If Rachel couldn't remember how to make a sandwich the way Abby liked, was Rachel still Mama?

Lately, no matter how hard Quinn reminded herself to be grateful and give thanks in the Lord, she was having a hard time keeping her faith that everything would be okay. She was starting to doubt she could possibly bear the weight of her worries. It was a sin to despair, and she felt like maybe she was digging a deeper hole for herself with God for being so depressed and feeling so hopeless. She was supposed to believe God would take care of it in due time, but she was really starting to question if God actually existed. She never had any doubt before-- no matter what had happened to her, she still believed in God and that He loved her, that even if she didn't get everything she wanted in life, she would have enough.

But now, seeing how much Rachel and the children, in particular, suffered, she wondered if God actually existed at all. Another more-self-centered, self-important person might think she was rejected and unloved by God, but she didn't see anything special enough about her that God would single her out like that. So that had to mean God did not exist. She didn't want to think that way-- an absence of God made life seem so _sad_ , like, even if a person led a good life, that was _it_. Quinn thought there had to be more than that and she just wanted to hold onto her faith-- it was carrying her through all this, but it was getting so _hard_.

Santana encouraged her to keep her head up, and Quinn took that to heart. But Quinn felt like any time she got to a good point in her life, she was knocked down again.

\--

Santana still had Rachel's senior year school photo tucked away in a box of her keepsakes. She was sort of embarrassed that she even had a box of keepsakes since she still tried so hard to project of image of non-sentimentality. But the truth was, that photo held value to her. She just couldn't bring herself to get rid of it. She knew one day, that picture would likely be worth a goddamn fortune, but she'd never sell it.

She'd stared at that picture a lot in the days immediately following Rachel's accident. She had it in her coat pocket the first time she visited Rachel after the accident and she instinctively gripped onto it when she saw the extent of Rachel's injuries, as though that would help her friend hold on. The prognosis was grim back then-- to the point where she, Quinn and Mike were conferring about possible funeral arrangements.

She was just grateful Rachel was alive--Santana didn't know what she would have done if Rachel had died. But she wished Rachel could remember.

Santana had this unpleasant habit of falling in love with her best friend-- as evidenced by her friendships and relationships with Brittany, Quinn and Rachel. It was terribly self-defeating, but it was simply the way it was. She wasn't in love with Rachel or Quinn anymore, but she still loved them more than the average best friend would. And when terrible things happened to them, it felt like it was happening to her, too.

Watching the way Rachel interacted with Quinn and the kids now, Santana's heart sank a little because Rachel definitely wasn't the same girl. They all just wanted their lives to return to normal, but it was starting to look like that wasn't going to happen.

"It's going to be okay Santana," Brittany whispered when they were back at their apartment later that night. "She's still Rachel. She's different, but she's still Rachel. It's all going to be okay, I promise."

She loved Brittany so much, and they'd weathered through so much together. Santana has wanted to believe in Brittany's promises since they were eleven, but she just didn't have the same faith anymore.

 

\--


	2. Chapter 2

\--

**Year: 2012**

Santana moved into Rachel's apartment, basically uninvited, during her first month in New York City. It was only a few months after Rachel herself had moved to the city and the semester at NYADA was still fresh. Rachel was living off-campus because she'd already decided that the dorms were not for her during her summer program at NYADA, so she secured a tiny one-bedroom. Santana moved in because even though her cash flow was flush with the check her mother gave her, she wanted to use it sparingly. Every time she used even a dollar, she thought about all the nice things her parents could have bought with the money they squared away for her. She'd already disappointed them by ditching college in Louisville, especially since she had a full ride. She had no intention to squander their money. She wanted fame and bright lights every bit as badly as Rachel did, but she knew this wasn't the path her parents wanted for her, so she made every effort not to further disappoint them.

Santana was about 70% sure that her moving in was illegal. Or at least, it should be because it was ridiculously tiny and barely enough for one person, let alone two. It had to be a fire hazard or something. But Rachel let it happen mostly because Rachel was getting a little lonesome in the city by herself, and Santana's presence was like the annoying heavy blanket her one of her fathers would inevitably cover her with after she'd already kicked it off in her sleep because she was too hot-- unnecessary, but comforting in its familiarity. Anyway, the building they were living in was a dump, so it Rachel felt a little safer with Santana around at night, snoring away in the next bed, even if Santana adamantly denied she snored like a lumberjack.

Santana was certain that if she and Rachel ever farted at the same time, the windows in the place would blow out-- that's how little the place was. They practically lived on top of one another until they started to _literally_ live on top of one another. They shared a bedroom-- two twin beds on opposite sides of the miniscule space that was smaller than the walk-in closet Santana had back at her parents' house. When they were actually living it, it was a shitty hovel. But when Santana looked back on it, it was actually pretty magical, especially that first year.

Santana wanted to kill Rachel at least eight times per day. More than once, she'd clench her hand around the handle of a knife she was holding while cooking, shut her eyes and remind herself that while she enjoyed singing 'Cell Block Tango', she didn't want to be turned into a cautionary tale. With her luck, Rachel would end up surviving the attack while she went away for attempted murder and Rachel would end up playing her (instead of herself) in a Tony-award winning musical based on their lives. Santana just could not handle that. It was too much of a fucking outrage and the midget would inevitably get it wrong. So Santana put a cork on her anger and tried to turn her anger into something sexual and rubbed one out in the shower. It usually worked and put her into a good enough mood that she liked Rachel again and could deal with her without killing her.

But there were good times, too. And the good outweighed the breathtakingly annoying.

Sure, they had more than one huge blow-out argument about storing meat in the refrigerator and freezer-- Rachel was still trying to keep an all-vegan kitchen, despite how costly it was, and Santana ate anything if it was tasty. She even once Googled what penguins tasted like, just in case she ever got trapped in some polar region and had to cook one up (they apparently taste disgusting, and Santana wasn't planning any excursions to places where penguins are endemic, she just wanted to be prepared for anything and for that, she blamed Rachel fully).

Eight days of fights before Rachel finally gave up one shelf in their tiny, decrepit Kenmore refrigerator for meat-and-dairy which constituted the bulk of Santana's groceries. It wasn't what Santana wanted-- she was a winner-take-all sort of person, but it was enough. And what did she need with a lot of dairy anyway? Milk made baby cows fat. Besides, she did not want to be woken up at 6am by Rachel Berry's high-pitched shrieks and insane rants just because she consumed non-vegan yogurt again because she grabbed a misplaced yogurt cup half-delirious after her insanely grueling 5am workout. Santana didn't even know vegan Greek yogurt existed, so she never anticipated it was a mistake Rachel could make. Eventually, Rachel gave up the vegan thing altogether out of poverty and exasperation.

Anyway, after a couple months, Rachel's homecooked vegan meals kind of started to grow on her. Except not the mac-and-cheese, because that vegan cheese was absolutely disgusting. There was no way to mimic the texture or taste of real cheese. That fucking Daiya cheese was expensive as fuck and revolting, but when Rachel indulged enough to buy it, she just ate it up like it was the best thing ever. Santana thought that explained a lot about Rachel-- she just had bad taste.

Exhibit A: her lumbering monstrosity of a not-quite-anymore-fiance.

Exhibit B: animal-themed sweaters

 

\--

Santana enrolled in some community college classes while she took some acting, singing and dance classes and took on a few shifts at a local Olive Garden. It was nothing glamorous-- it was the opposite of glamorous, really. She was just biding her time until she could apply for NYU and NYADA-- even if she wasn't particularly enchanted with the idea of going to college, she knew she needed a college education, just in case. After all, even Rachel Berry was going to college and she had her heart set on succeeding as an actor. They both liked to have a contingency plan, even if they didn't really like the idea of plan b kicking in (the contingency plan, not the emergency contraceptive.)

She went home to Lima for Thanksgiving-- primarily to see Brittany, but also because she really missed her family and her mother's cooking. She already felt awful that her grandmother basically ignored her the entire meal and made a derisive remark when her father asked Santana to lead the prayer. She was in a bad mood when she went over to Brittany's house after dinner and she went specifically because Brittany always picked her mood up. Mrs. Pierce greeted her with a big smile per usual, but Brittany seemed a little off. In fact, Brittany had seemed off since Santana came into town the night before.

She kind of knew what was coming, but she'd been dreading it. Still, she couldn't help crying when Brittany gently broke up with her. There were no explanations. Just…a very matter-of-fact disconnect. She couldn't help begging either, even if she was a little ashamed of it. Brittany wouldn't say 'why,' just that it was over, and Santana just didn't get how she could have no say in this.

A long time later, she'd realize Brittany did it for her own good, but at the time, Santana couldn't see past her broken heart.

She was supposed to go back to New York on Sunday but she left Friday afternoon instead. She wanted to be the better person and be content to spend the Thanksgiving holiday weekend with her family-- _most_ of whom were happy to have her back, but she wasn't the better person. Between her grandmother's and Brittany's rejections, Lima just felt smaller than ever. It wasn't big enough that she could stay.

She got back to New York and the first thing she did was stop off at the liquor store on her block. The clerk never bothered asking for ID since she always flashed a little boob every time she bought anything-- it didn't matter if it was just a pack of gum or a pack of beer. She knew how to keep her bridges. Just because she burnt a lot of them didn't mean she didn't know how to keep a person on the hook.

She bought three bottles of Jack, and spent the weekend getting drunk and belligerent while watching a _M*A*S*H_ marathon. She wasn't so much interested as she was too lazy to change the channel and the remote was just out of her reach.

Rachel came home on Sunday night while Santana was watching some cheesy Christmas episode. She dropped her bags by the front door

They'd been living together long enough that Rachel knew something was wrong right away. She heaved this long-suffering sigh that Santana immediately resented (both the sigh and the girl) because people did not suffer because of her presence, they suffered because of her absence, god damn it.

"How was your weekend with Blondie?" Santana asked resentfully.

Rachel looked cautious. "It was wonderful. We were able to talk to our parents on the cruise and they were having a great time, too."

Santana snorted in derision.

Rachel's fathers and Quinn's mother took a Thanksgiving gay cruise together-- Judy's idea, apparently, but Rachel's fathers were all too happy to jump on board and all three were all too happy to abandon their children to fend for themselves on Thanksgiving with the caveat they spend it together. Rachel's family apparently never celebrated Thanksgiving anyway and Quinn's mom didn't make a big production of Thanksgiving ever since the divorce.

Rachel's fathers and Quinn's mother become friendly after Quinn's accident and Judy basically turned into some kind of fag hag. Santana didn't know why Queery Quinn didn't just come out of the closet already-- Judy was practically begging Quinn to come out. And with insisting Quinn and Rachel spend Thanksgiving together, alone? They were basically being set up.

Sometimes, Santana wondered if Quinn was only gay for Berry, but Quinn had a hard-on for Rachel for as long as Santana could remember, so Quinn may as well just be a general gaymo. It was so obvious and Santana was tempted to call Quinn up and let her know that she wasn't fooling everyone, that she basically pinged any decent gaydar like it was fucking Mardi Gras. But Santana wasn't so drunk and belligerent she really wanted to hurt her friend like that.

"Did something happen with Brittany?" Rachel asked quietly.

"What's it to you?" Santana demanded aggressively.

Rachel sighed and nudged Santana over on the tiny sofa. Santana sighed and made some room. There were prison cells that were larger than their apartment, so there wasn't many places for Rachel to go if Santana didn't make room on the couch, so she may as well. Rachel was tiny and persistent, like a hungry mosquito.

Rachel practically poured herself into the couch and draped herself over Santana, her head in Santana's lap. Rachel knew Santana well enough to know that Santana didn't want to talk right now, but she knew if she gave Santana a little time, she could cajole Santana into at least giving her a little information about why she was so upset. Tiny ass Rachel with the minuscule (and actually diminishing since taking Cassandra July's class) ass barely took up any space, but Santana found the weight of Rachel's midget body against hers to be…comforting.

Santana began running her fingers through Rachel's hair as they focused on the TV.

Rachel practically purred. It felt so calming when Santana did that, and even though Rachel knew she was supposed to comfort Santana instead of the other way around, she just let Santana do it. It wasn't the first time they'd laid this way, and it likely wouldn't be the last time, either.

They were watching for about 15 minutes when Rachel spoke.

"Alan Alda was pretty handsome."

Santana made a horrified face. "You have horrible taste. That explains the disaster that is Finchel."

Rachel laughed. He wasn't such a sore subject anymore-- it still hurt that he left her like that, but she was coming to realize that she was happier without him. She realized that she was better off without him, too. Even if he came back into her life, she wasn't sure she'd want him to stay. She wished him all the best at basic training, but she'd become accustomed to a life without him and she liked it. Still, she could be fair. "Finn is a good guy."

"Whatever."

Santana thought Finn was an idiot and if Rachel ever got back together with him, that would make her an idiot, too.

They were quiet again as they watched Alan Alda's character, dressed as Santa Claus, rappelled out of an airplane.

"That's pretty bad ass if he did it himself," Santana admitted.

"I'm sure he didn't," Rachel said. "I'm sure the show did not allow its star to do such a potentially dangerous stunt. Insurance reasons."

"You're so cool," Santana said sarcastically. "Did you get that from the E! True Hollywood story?

Rachel gave a little shrug. It was almost cute, except Santana was in no mood to find girls cute.

They watched the show until it ended a few minutes later and the next episode started.

"I never watched _M*A*S*H_ but my fathers did," Rachel commented. "I would see the opening credits occasionally and then I'd get bored and go to my room to watch a Streisand movie--"

"Of course you did."

"But I always thought those nurses running were very lovely. I admired a bouncing bosom early."

Santana laughed. "Me too."

Rachel liked boys-- that was clear. But she had an appreciation for the female form. Santana suspected that given the right circumstances and a decent amount of alcohol, she could get a taste of Rachel Berry's promised land.

"Is the blonde your favorite?" Rachel asked.

"The brunette in the front. She's running ahead of everyone. I like a winner, boo."

Rachel laughed, but then she sobered. "What's wrong, boo?" she asked gently.

Santana swallowed hard. "Brittany broke up with me," she said, her voice trembling.

Rachel exhaled quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Well, I'm not going to cry and sing 'Can't Live if Living is Without You", but not so much, Berry."

"Dumb question," Rachel demurred. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Santana sighed.

Rachel sat up and pressed her lips to Santana's cheek. "You used to keep razor blades in your hair and you're from Lima Heights Adjacent. You're Santana Lopez, motherfucker. You'll get through this."

Santana laughed because _Jesus_. She could get away with saying "I'm Santana Lopez, motherfucker," but Rachel definitely could _not_ pull off saying 'motherfucker'-- she may have had the singing voice of an angel, but she sounded about 12 years old when she spoke, albeit a 12 year old with an extensive vocabulary. Rachel was practically a Disney princess and hearing her say "fuck" was kind of disturbing.

"I know," Santana said. "But I didn't want to be Santana Lopez without Brittany."

"Well, Santana, as you now know I am a bit psychic and--"

"Oh God, not this again."

Rachel went on as if she'd never been interrupted. "I just have this feeling that you and Brittany will be together in the end."

Santana rolled her eyes. "What part of breaking up don't you understand?" she asked, but she really hoped it was true.

Rachel sat up and put her arm around her and pulled Santana close. Santana put her head on Rachel's shoulder and burrowed in. For someone so small, Rachel was surprisingly comfortable to lean against.

\--

They celebrated Rachel's 18th birthday which fell one week before Christmas by going out to a nice dinner together-- it was a rare indulgence. Sure, neither of them were above going out on a date with some boy when they had a hankering for something they couldn’t quite afford, but most of the time, they were both too busy to go out on dates. And anyway, Santana was over dating guys-- she was a lesbian, for God's sake, she just wasn't above throwing a guy a bone by going out with him when she needed to wanted a sumptuous meal

Quinn wanted to visit to celebrate with them, but she was pinned down by a late exam. In all honesty, Santana kind of liked that it was just her and Rachel. She couldn't help it, she got goddamn possessive. She got kind of possessive over Quinn when Quinn and Rachel acted like they were the only two people in the world, too.

Still, she felt kind of evil for being kind of glad because she'd talked to Quinn earlier who made Santana _swear_ to treat Rachel to everything on her birthday as if Santana would have actually made Rachel pay for dinner on her own birthday. Santana tried to get as many free meals as possible, but she wasn't some cheap barbarian. Making Rachel pay for anything on her birthday was uncouth, and her mother raised her better than that.

The nice dinner was kind of a splurge, but fuck it, it was Rachel's 18th birthday-- that was special. They didn't eat out very much-- not even fast food although Santana indulged a little more than Rachel did because she had a thing for Happy Meals. Plus, she stole quite a bit of food from her shifts at the Olive Garden. They didn't go hungry or anything, but their meals weren't anything fancy. They both got pretty good at cooking though.

Santana was chewing on a large bite of a breadstick as she cut her steak while Rachel clucked her tongue at Santana's lack of manners as though she were eighty instead of just-turned-eighteen when she heard Mike Chang ask "Rachel? Santana?"

It was a surprise to see Mike standing there flanked by his parents who both smiled down at Rachel and Santana.

Mike joined them to chat for a bit while the elder Changs got seated and Santana found out Mike decided to forego Chicago for New York. He'd applied for admissions to NYU, NYADA and Julliard and was waiting for responses for the 2013-2014 school year just like Santana was. Mike was living in a tiny studio apartment not too far from them and he was teaching dance to kids in a studio close to NYADA. The Changs were going to spend Christmas in New York with Mike and just decided to spend an entire week in the city.

Rachel clapped happily and hugged him fiercely. She made Mike cross his heart and triple swear to hang out soon.

Santana and Rachel took their time with their meals, savoring it. By the time they had dessert and asked for the check, Mike and his parents had been gone for at least thirty minutes. Then Santana realized the Changs paid their bill. Santana was grateful, but she wanted to do something more for Rachel and now she had no idea what else to do. She came from a long line of people who showed their love by feeding her and she sort of did the same

It was chilly when they left the restaurant and they huddled close together as they walked to the subway. Rachel took Santana's arm, clung tightly to it and snuggled even closer.

Santana chuckled softly and suppressed the urge to mock Rachel for being such a cuddle monster. Santana was selectively physically affectionate-- she just wasn't a hugger. But she'd made exceptions for people-- her parents, her grandmother (before her grandmother decided she was going to hell) and occasionally her brothers. By choice, she gradually extended that to Brittany and Quinn and now, somehow, Rachel had been let into that very tiny circle without Santana even realizing it.  
  
Santana turned her head so she could speak lower and closer to Rachel's ear. "What do you want to do next? It's still your birthday."

Rachel grinned toothily at her. "I was hoping we could just go home and have a marathon of Barbra Streisand movies."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Santana, it _is_ my birthday after all," Rachel chided primly.

"All right," Santana groused. "But we're going to have to pick up some snacks on the way home if I have to sit through _Funny Girl_ again." She was full now, but she always got the munchies over movies.

Rachel beamed. "Certainly."

They lived near a Trader Joe's, so they stopped in. They arrived a little before closing and headed straight for the snack aisle. Predictably, Rachel got her Calbea snap pea crisps and vegetable chips before skittering off to get a container of hummus, leaving Santana to get kettle chips and white cheddar popcorn.

Santana smacked Rachel's hand when Rachel attempted to pay.

"Stop," Santana ordered, handing the cashier some cash.

Rachel scowled. "You hit me."

"It was barely a tap."

"It was an assault. On my birthday."

"Do you want me to give you something to cry 'assault' about?" Santana asked, taking her change from the cashier without looking while she glared at Rachel. "Because I can."

"Now you're threatening me. On my birthday."

"I'm going to murder you. On your birthday." Santana took the proffered bag the cashier handed her and hooked her arm with Rachel's. "I'll glass you in the throat."

Rachel chuckled. "But what's the point of keeping razor blades in your hair if you aren't going to utilize them?"

Santana laughed and once they exited, she paused. "Crap. Wait here, I forgot to get those caramels."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You want me to freeze out here?"

"It's really not that cold, hence your ensemble."

Rachel pouted as she looked down at her tights and skirt. Santana had a point, but still.

"Why can't I come in with you?"

"Because if you do, then you'll decide now is the perfect time to get groceries, and we're just here to get snacks. If I go alone, I'm in and then I'm out. Boom."

"I have no idea why you're so popular with that mentality," Rachel said dryly.

Santana cracked a wide smile-- sometimes Rachel just surprised her. "I'll be right back, boo. Just wait here, okay?"

"Okay."

Santana dashed inside and turned to make sure Rachel wasn't looking. Rachel, ever insane, was looking up at the sky, actually staring at the moon like she was a character out of _Our Town_. Santana looked at the flowers by the entrance and found some peach colored roses that looked fresh. She grabbed them and headed for the register. She picked up a container of caramels that were by the register-- she enjoyed putting salt on those, but she usually ended up eating way too many of them.

Rachel was chatting with some preppy-looking foreign tourist when Santana walked out. Rachel was looking up at him, chattering excitedly. Rachel was always like that; she was constantly striking up conversations with strangers-- in the middle of New York City. Who the hell did that? Santana had no idea how Rachel could be so naïve about people when most of her high school experience was so awful.

"Hey," Santana said, shooting the guy a glare. She didn't know why she minded him looking at Rachel with such open interest, but she did. She gestured for Rachel to take the flowers. "Happy Birthday, boo."

Rachel squealed, bouncing away from the tourist to practically jump over to Santana. "For me?" she gasped.

Santana rolled her eyes-- Rachel was always like that with a present. She was the sort of person that liked to turn present-oriented events into a real ordeal, but she always got so excited over presents no matter how small. This year, Santana gave Rachel a few Barbra Streisand DVDs she knew weren't in Rachel's collection yet. It was no big deal, in fact, she got them from the bargain bin at Target, not that she'd ever cop to that because Rachel would likely pitch a fit over her idol being in the _bargain_ bin, and drag her back to Target to demand to pay more or something, the crazy ass. It's not that Santana was cheap-- she was just on a budget. She went to a used record store and bought _My Name is Barbra_ on vinyl primarily because she once saw a picture of Rachel as a five year old posed in a similar looking chair, in a similar looking dress with similar expression. She tried to find the cover in the best shape because they didn't have a record player, so the condition of the record itself was less of a concern. She bought a frame for it and then bought a postcard with Streisand on it in lieu of an actual birthday card. Rachel shrieked over the postcard like it was the best thing ever and she became increasingly more excited as she opened the actual gifts.

It was sort of ridiculous.

"No, midget. For your new friend."

Rachel actually paused mid-reach for the flowers and looked at Santana uncertainly.

"Idiot! Of course they are for you! Why are you being dense? Have you been talking to Finnessa or what?" She passed the flowers to Rachel who accepted them with a beaming grin.

Rachel chose to ignore the barb about Finn and beamed at her. "Thank you, Santana!" she exclaimed as she practically threw herself into Santana's arms. Rachel grasped Santana in a one-armed hug and rocked her to-and-fro

A tiny, affectionate smile touched Santana's lips, but she rolled her eyes. "Drama queen."

Rachel knew she was being a drama queen, but she loved Santana and she appreciated all the thought Santana had put into this birthday. She just felt so special. She suddenly realized she was being rude-- she had introductions to make.

Rachel laughed. "Oh! Santana! Please meet my new friend, Pawel," she said gesturing toward the preppy tourist.

He was cute, but he failed to interest Santana. He was blandly handsome, which was a look that Rachel seemed to like.

"Hey."

"Hello, Santana," he greeted pleasantly. "Rachel was telling me it is her birthday. Perhaps we can continue a celebration together?"

"Sorry," she told him flatly. "We have plans."

She grabbed Rachel abruptly and flagged down a passing taxi before he could respond. They were already inside and in motion before Rachel could even react.

"Santana!" Rachel sputtered. "That was very rude! And we only live a block away. Taking a cab for that distance is not frugal!"

"He was a creep."

Maybe he wasn't a creep. Perhaps he was the best guy in the entire galaxy. But Santana didn't like the way he looked at Rachel.

It only took a couple of minutes to get home. Santana paid the driver and stiffed him on tip because of the way he ogled Rachel's butt as she got out.

"I still don't understand why you had to be so rude with him."

Rachel was baffled by Santana's behavior.

"You can't encourage guys like that."

"You didn't even talk to him! He was very nice."

Rachel was tempted to chuck a tantrum, but she decided it wasn't worth it.

"The longer you nag me about my manners, the more you put off our Barbra marathon, boo."

"Oh!"

Santana rolled her eyes as she watched Rachel unlock their front door. Within a few minutes, they were on the couch with the DVD player loaded and snacks on the coffee table.

Rachel snuggled into her and Santana grumbled good-naturedly. She threw her arm around Rachel's shoulders and didn't protest when Rachel pulled a throw blanket around them.

At some point, Santana must have dozed off because she was aware of Rachel gently nudging her awake.

"Come on, boo," Rachel murmured.

"Leave me alone, Rach," Santana murmured. "It’s after midnight and I don't have to be nice to you anymore."

Rachel laughed softly and pulled Santana to her feet. Santana allowed herself to be nudged toward their shared bedroom where Rachel guided Santana to her twin-sized bed. Santana threw herself onto the bed, not caring she was sleeping in her make-up despite Rachel being judgey-judge about it.

Rachel surrendered the battle. If Santana wanted to ruin that flawless complexion, that was her deal. Santana looked comfortable, but it was a cold night, so once Santana snuggled into her bed, Rachel pulled the sheet and comforter up to Santana's chin. She tucked Santana into bed securely, a move Santana called "the burrito."

"Thanks for making my birthday so perfect," Rachel murmured. Her lips grazed across Santana's forehead. It was the first time she spent a birthday away from her fathers since she was twelve, and she felt lonesome for them. She missed Quinn, too, and wished the blonde could have made it to the city to celebrate. Santana made that so much better.

"Yeah, sure," Santana muttered sleepily. "Happy birthday, Rach."

"Goodnight," Rachel said softly. She caressed Santana's cheek with her fingertips. Santana's face really was perfect.

Santana smiled drowsily. "Night," she mumbled. "Thanks for burritoing me, boo."

"Anytime," Rachel said softly. Rachel bit her lower lip as she gazed down at Santana for a moment. She kissed Santana's forehead, her lips just barely grazing the skin. She sighed. Her head was a swirl of thoughts she didn't want to deal with. She decided the best way to avoid it was to sleep. She walked over to her side of the room and threw herself into her bed. Her head was an ocean, and she couldn't swim.

\--

When Santana woke the next morning and ambled into the living room, she saw the roses she'd bought for Rachel in the living room in a vase.

Rachel was cooking breakfast, so she joined Rachel in the kitchen. Santana smiled when she saw the Barbra Streisand postcard she'd bought for Rachel on the refrigerator held by a NYADA magnet.

"Hey," Rachel greeted with a smile. "I'm making pancakes. You'll eat them, right?"

Santana nodded. "Right." She smiled. Rachel was a pretty good cook when she got things right. But she also had a 50-50 chance of setting things on fire. Pancakes were an easy option.

"Thank you so much for my flowers," Rachel said enthusiastically. "They're so beautiful. I love the color!"

"You're welcome, boo."

They were eating happily when there was a loud knock on their door.

Santana recognized that knock anywhere-- it was Quinn. Despite the fact that Quinn Fabray looked like a fairy tale princess and dressed like something out of an Anthropologie catalogue, she had a cop knock.

Rachel's face brightened. "That's Quinn," she said, jumping to her feet and taking off for the door. Rachel recognized that knock, too.

Santana finished chewing a mouthful of pancakes, swallowed, set her fork on the table, wiped her mouth and got up to follow Rachel toward the door.

Rachel looked into the peephole just to be sure and then let out a happy squeal. She practically took the door off the hinges to throw open the door.

"Quinn!"

They were hugging when Santana got to the door. It'd only been two weeks since they last saw one another but Rachel and Quinn were holding onto one another like they were long-lost lovers separated by decades, a couple of wars and at least one hospital convalescence. But fuck it, they were hot-- Santana thought the three of them could make tuberculosis sexy.

Santana really wished Quinn would just come out already.

Santana looked at the ground and saw a large shopping bag and a bouquet of flowers at Quinn's feet. She felt a little bad that the flowers she gave Rachel last night looked so dinky compared to the bouquet Quinn brought. She wasn't exactly sure why-- _of course_ , Quinn would go overboard. She always did when it came to Rachel. Quinn was always at the extremes when it was Rachel Berry related. But even if Santana was over the bullshit that happened between her and Quinn back in high school, she still a twinge every time she lost to Quinn Fabray. She had this tendency to lose to Quinn that she never could quite reconcile with herself.

Once Rachel and Quinn separated, Quinn and Santana smiled at one another.

Losing to Quinn or not, it still felt damn good to see her.

Santana moved quickly toward Quinn. She hugged Quinn as hard as she could, and started laughing when Quinn started to giggle.

"I knew you’d make it," Santana teased. "My ass you were going to meet us in Lima."

That had been the original plan, but apparently, Fabray just couldn't wait to see Rachel. That was so GAY.

"I'm a closer," Quinn agreed.

Santana held back a snort because Quinn definitely was not a closer.

Quinn had to hustle to get here, but Quinn wasn't going to let anything stop her from being able to wish Rachel a Happy Birthday in person. She missed the actual day to sit an exam, but she thought she could at least get to celebrate with Rachel a couple days before they took the train back to Lima for the winter vacation.

Rachel was peeking into the shopping bag.

"Stop it!" Quinn scolded. "You can open it when we get inside."

Quinn rolled her eyes. Rachel was totally like a little kid. Quinn knew Rachel's parents celebrated both Hanukkah and Christmas. She had no doubt in her mind that Rachel was one of those kids that searched the house for presents her parents wanted to keep a surprise.

Rachel scooped up the shopping bag and the flowers and scampered back into the apartment. She paused and looked back into the hallway. "Come on, guys! My birthday celebration continues," she giggled like a little kid, her chin tucking into her shoulder, and then went inside. She looked about six years old when she laughed like that.

Quinn and Santana looked at one another and shook their heads.

"You haven't wanted to kill her yet?" Quinn asked wryly, but she smiled with affection.

"Only like, every other second. But fuck it, Q. Getting mad at that midget is like getting mad at the cute puppy that shits on your floor. She just doesn't know any better."

"I know," Quinn laughed.

\--

Santana felt like a third wheel in her own apartment as she watched Quinn and Rachel cast these shy little glances at one another while they finished up breakfast. She rolled her eyes at the pathetic display, but neither Quinn nor Rachel noticed. Rachel cooked up some bacon that they kept around just for Quinn.

Santana stared again at the flowers she bought for Rachel and the bouquet Quinn brought. They were placed in vases side by side and she once again felt like Quinn won, even if it wasn't a competition. She was irritated at herself for feeling like this-- she could have stayed in high school with such a mentality.

"Right, boo?" Rachel asked.

Santana blinked. "What?" she asked, annoyed. She realized she'd zoned out and now she was zoning back in mid-conversation.

Rachel was confused by her tone. She didn't know why Santana suddenly seemed so angry. "I-- I said we had fun last night, right?" she asked hesitantly, looking at Santana with trepidation.

Santana immediately felt like such an asshole. "We had a great time, boo," she assured gently.

Rachel exhaled, a small relieved breath, and beamed at her. "We really did." She smiled at Quinn. "I really wish you could have been there, but I'm so glad you're here now."

\--

Two days later, the three of them took the train back to Lima together. Santana's mother picked up all three of them. They dropped Rachel off first since she lived closest to the train station. Santana and Quinn waved back when Rachel turned around at the top of her driveway to wave at them.

\--

Santana felt lame about it, but two hours after she and her mom dropped off Quinn and Rachel, Santana was already on her phone asking if Quinn wanted to come over. Santana was feeling apprehensive about being back in Lima-- she knew she would have to see Brittany some time, so she wanted some non-chatty company.

She loved Brittany still, but she was managing without her. She didn't want to move backwards and seeing Brittany would definitely send her into a tizzy of longing and self-reproach. As much as she loved living in New York, she felt so stupid sometimes when she thought about how she'd left Brittany behind. She swore she'd never do that, and having Brittany dump her likely because of the distance made Santana feel like she made such a massive mistake. She still didn't know why Brittany just dumped her like that, but she was certain being so far apart did not help.

"It feels kind of weird to be back here," Quinn commented when she entered Santana's bedroom. She nodded at the poster on Santana's wall. "What up, Bob Marley," she said, raising one fist in the air in salute.

It was so unexpected that Santana burst into laughter. Quinn had no sense of humor, but maybe she'd picked one up at the Yale student store or something. Either way, it was just nice to see Quinn be a little light-hearted for no reason, for once. Quinn's natural setting seemed to be on sad bastard.

Quinn bellyfloppped onto Santana's bed and Santana lied down on her back beside her. Santana was using her laptop to listen to music and she was in an Annie Lennox sort of mood-- not exactly depressed, but not exactly happy either. She was feeling a weird and sudden sense of melancholia for no particular reason.

"Was your mom home yet?" Santana asked.

"No, she's still at work. She'll be home later. We're going to have dinner."

"Cool."

They were quiet for a while and Santana began playing with Quinn's hair. "Just tell your mom, Q," she said softly. "You would feel so much better if you did."

Quinn pulled away from her. Her back broke out into a cold sweat. She had an inkling about what Santana was talking about, but she was hoping she was wrong. She had a sixth sense for this sort of thing, despite the fact that Santana was basically speaking in non-sequiturs. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said stiffly. "Tell my mom what?"

"Q, come on."

"What, _S_?"

"Your mom went on that gay cruise with Rachel's dads at Thanksgiving. You saw the pictures. She had a great time."

Quinn sat up quickly and rose to her feet. "What are you trying to say?" she demanded. She was horrified.

"Q, you're practically too gay to function." Santana stood up as well.

Quinn's breathing became rapid. Santana uncharitably likened it to a pug.

This was a nightmare for Quinn. She loved Santana, but if Santana picked up on the fact that Quinn had some…not-so-straight proclivities, then it was possible that other people did, too. And Quinn couldn't handle that possibility. Denial was her best option.

"What are you talking about?" Quinn demanded. "I'm not gay!"

"Okay," Santana placated. "At least admit you've got lady wood for Rachel."

Quinn's eyes were huge. She wiped her hand across her mouth and just above her upper lip. Her face was starting to sweat. "What? No! We're just friends."

"Quinn--"

"We're just friends!"

"Quinn, calm your tits, okay. I--"

"No! You get _off_ my tits."

Santana snorted. "Are you sure you want that, Queer Fabgay?" she sneered. "Girls like you like it when I'm on their tits."

Quinn wanted to cry. "Girls like me?" she whispered. She knew in that moment there was no way that she could believably deny anything to Santana. She could deny it all she wanted, but Santana wouldn't believe her. If it were false, Quinn would just laugh it off, like that time Santana accused her of stuffing her bra. But this was _true_ and Quinn could barely breathe, let alone laugh. It'd been a while since she had to be a fake-- college was glorious that way. And she thought she and Santana were past being fake with one another, but of course, they were back in Lima and it was like putting two betta fish in one bowl.

"Ah, hell," Santana said. She went too far. Sometimes she knew her brand of tough love just felt tough and not loving. "I'm sorry, Q."

"I'm not what you're accusing me of," Quinn whispered. "I can't be."

Santana swallowed hard. "I thought I couldn't either," she said gently. "I was so sure my parents would flip and my family would reject me. But sometimes people can surprise you."

"Did your grandma surprise you?" Quinn snapped.

Santana flinched, because her grandmother's continued rejection still hurt. And she didn't like it thrown in her face. "Not really," Santana said quietly. A part of her had hoped that her grandmother would be accepting-- prayed for it, actually. Of everyone in her family, she thought her grandmother loved her most. Her grandmother was a devout Catholic, but Santana had hoped that her grandmother loved her enough to be able to reconcile loving her with religious faith. "But if she didn't know that about me, she wouldn't be loving the real me. This is who I am, and it's…it's important to me."

"You've got your parents, S," Quinn said gruffly. "I just have my mom. And if she…" she swallowed with difficulty. "If she cut me out, I'd have no one."

"You'd have me, bitch," Santana said gently. "And you know Rachel would be there."

"I…I just….I can't with this, okay? Not right now."

Santana smiled wryly because Jesus, Quinn moved _glacially_ about these things.

"Quinn, you're not supposed to still be this repressed in college. Dumb ass."

Quinn laughed sadly. "I am who I am."

"Jesus, Q. Come here," Santana said, as she grabbed Quinn by the front of her shirt and yanked her closer. She pulled Quinn so hard, the blonde bounced against her. Leave it to Fabray to quote the Bible at a time like this. Santana herself was readily familiar with Exodus 3:14 from Sunday school.

"What are you doing, S?" Quinn said, eyes wide. But she made no move to pull away and they were standing so close, their chests touched. Quinn's heart hammered so hard in her chest that Santana could feel it thump against hers.

"You're so gay, you can't even walk straight," Santana said tenderly. "And you're probably going to stay closeted for life, so I think you should at least kiss one girl. And if it's not going to be Rachel, it may as well be me."

"I'm not. I'm not really into that, S. I--"

"Shut up, Q," Santana ordered softly. She leaned up on tiptoe, because Quinn was slightly taller and pressed her lips to Quinn's.

It only took a moment for Quinn's mouth to part and Quinn moaned as Santana slipped her tongue into Quinn's mouth.

Santana always thought Quinn was hot, and she'd, of course, entertained numerous threesome fantasies in high school where she was the meat to Quinn and Brittany's bread in a particularly tasty sandwich. But she'd always thought Quinn was too uptight to really enjoy something like this, so it was purely for aesthetic purposes-- something to slip into the spank bank, so to speak. Every little whimper, gasp and moan that Quinn let out with every lick, bite and tug was a turn-on. Santana had no idea she would enjoy just hearing Quinn make noise.

When they pulled apart, Santana peered into Quinn's eyes. "Don't freak out," she ordered softly.

Santana was hyperaware of everything-- the way Quinn's eyes were wide and her pupils huge, the way Quinn was breathing in tiny gasps, her chest heaving. The way Quinn smelled--all the individual parts-- the acai berry shampoo and conditioner, the perfume that Santana recognized as Clean Cotton T-Shirt and of course the unique scent of her skin-- all of it coming together to form Quinn Fabray's individual chemistry.

Annie Lennox was singing a cover of 'A Whiter Shade of Pale' and it was unobtrusively sad, the moment seemingly like something out of some coming-of-age lesbian movie with unknown actresses that Santana would have illegally downloaded to her computer in high school and then cried to.

Quinn took a deep breath. "Okay," she said, but she looked shaken.

This was the first time she'd ever kissed a girl, and in a way, she was kind of glad it was Santana. The two of them had been through so much together, that Quinn knew they'd always be friends. But it was all so much to deal with. Santana was forcing her to deal with something she'd forced herself to forget about since she was a five year old kid with a crush on her teacher, Ms. Atkins. She wasn't entirely gay, but she definitely wasn't entirely straight either, and she definitely leaned a little more towards gay judging by that kiss with Santana. And it'd been a long time since she even kissed anyone.

Santana reached up to touch Quinn's lower lip. "Don't freak out," she repeated.

Quinn gave her a tremulous smile. She willed herself to stay put, even though she wanted to run screaming back to New Haven and barricade herself into her dorm room. Her dorm was closed, so that wasn't even an option. She knew she couldn't face her mother right now. She could probably go to Rachel's, but she didn't feel like she could face Rachel, either.

"Okay," Quinn breathed.

She was trying very hard not to freak out, to remember to take in deep breaths. A part of Quinn half-expected the voice of God to break apart Santana's house just to tell her that she had just damned herself to Hell. How many times had she read that it was okay to be gay, but the true sin was to act on the feelings, and if one were gay, one must never actually do anything gay? And she'd just acted on it for the first time. This was _huge_ for her, and Santana expected her just to…to…linger around and listen to Annie Lennox? It was absurd.

"Hey," Santana whispered, wrapping her arms around Quinn and resting her chin on Quinn's shoulder. There was nothing sexual in that hug-- it was purely for solace. "God isn't going to get his thunderbolt and strike you down, okay?"

Quinn's eyes went wide. It was like Santana was reading her mind.

"My grandmother goes to church every day, Q," Santana said with a low chuckle. "You don't think I thought God was going to take me out with a thunderbolt or a flood or turn me into a pillar of salt the first time I kissed Brittany?"

"I was anticipating more smiting," Quinn admitted. "And the odor of sulfur." She sniffed. "I actually think I smell sulfur," she said lowly.

"That's just my Kate Somerville acne spot treatment, Q," Santana admitted with a laugh. She hugged Quinn tightly. "God doesn't hate you."

Quinn swallowed hard, because she'd been through this before. "Yeah, okay, S," she said, but she said it only to say it, not because she really believed it.

She was grateful for the internet because she's researched how she could possibly reconcile this with herself, and some of the stuff she's found is helpful. But the problem with those sites that try to prove there is nothing wrong with being gay often seems so scornful about the Bible. Like, she understood that the Bible condemns eating shellfish, wearing polyester, getting a short haircut and tattoos. She understood the Bible is okay with polygamy or selling one's daughter into slavery. Quinn could cognitively understand that maybe everything in the Bible wasn't something she should live her life by--she loved pork and shellfish and she'd gotten both a short haircut and a tattoo. She was totally fine with the ban on polyester, though. But the point was, her heart told her it was okay to shovel so much bacon in her mouth that pigs were in danger of going extinct or that she was considering getting another tattoo. But her heart told her that being gay was wrong, and she'd been conditioned at a young age to believe in God and to accept the Bible. She could not even conceive of believing God did not exist, particularly because she believed God saved her life and allowed her to walk again. She could be told time and time again she was not going to Hell, but she didn't want to risk it either. Ultimately, she was a pretty traditional Christian girl and she was _scared_. Those websites said to follow her heart, but her heart told her there was something wrong with her.

She didn't know what to do, and it was getting harder every day, because that kiss with Santana did _not_ feel wrong. Her heart told her that it was okay and that even if they weren't _in_ love with one another, they did love and care for each other. Her heart told her that the kiss with Santana had been good, and it was the very first time her heart felt like maybe things would be okay. But there was still a part of her that told her being gay was just _wrong_. She didn't know what to do.

Santana held her tenderly. "There's nothing wrong with us," she murmured. "You're one of my best friends, Q. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"Me too," Quinn whispered, eyes brimming with tears.

They lounged silently on Santana's bed, allowing the songs to mark the passing of time. It just seemed to fit.

This day would cause Santana Lopez to have a lifelong association between Annie Lennox and Quinn Fabray and for Quinn Fabray to have a lifelong association between the grace of God and Santana Lopez.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

**Year: 2019**

Santana heard Annie Lennox on the radio in the taxi en route to meeting Brittany for lunch. She could have taken the subway, but she couldn't be around so many people right now. The thought of getting into a taxi after what happened to Rachel made her a little nervous. They all carried vicarious trauma about taxis, but she couldn't get around the fact that she just didn't want to be around any human beings. Taxis didn't smell so great, but neither did the subway and she didn't want to put up with the stuffy stinky human smell on top of everything else.

She still associated Annie Lennox (including Eurthymics and the Tourists-era Annie, because duh, she was the true talent in those outfits) with Quinn. The first time she ever kissed Quinn Fabray was much more profound than she could have realized at the time, and she thought of Annie Lennox for the duration of her relationship with Quinn. It was kind of strange because 'A Whiter Shade of Pale' had been playing when she kissed Quinn for the first time.

Unconsciously, Santana brought her fingertips to her lips as she remembered the look on Quinn's face that day so many years before. Even when she hated Quinn, Quinn still managed to break her heart with how she could be such a sad fucking bastard.

The years since high school graduation, the last few years in particular, had been pretty good to Quinn. Santana had been glad to see how happy her friend was. But with Rachel's accident, the sadness was back..

There was immediate jubilation and hope after Rachel woke up. Santana just knew Rachel would kick that fucking coma's ass. There was no fucking way Rachel was going to go out like that. Rachel Berry being taken out because she happened to be the passenger in some smelly cab driven by an idiot that got hit by an equally idiotic drunk driver? No way was Rachel going to die like that. If she survived the accident itself, then she sure as hell was going to survive the aftermath and when Rachel proved just how strong she truly was by coming out of a three month coma? Hell yeah, there was celebration.

But Quinn…God, it was like she was expecting life to slap her down, because even before it became obvious Rachel couldn't remember, it was like Quinn _knew_ she was going to get fucked by life once again. Santana saw the look on Quinn's face right before the doctor broke the news-- she hadn't seen a look like that on Quinn's face in years and she remembered how sad bastard Quinn Fabray could break her heart. She'd been devastated, and everyone else followed suit when it became obvious how fully Rachel could not remember.

Santana had to push thoughts of her two best friends out of her head-- if she didn't, she'd go crazy. Her and Brittany's lives now basically revolved around Quinn and Rachel's, but Quinn sternly told them to look after themselves before they got sick over it. So, just for this moment, Santana was just going to focus on her hot girlfriend.

Brittany was already waiting for her at the restaurant.

Santana smiled at her girl--Brittany already ordered her a peach iced tea and there was a basket of breadsticks waiting.

"Hi," Brittany greeted, getting up to give Santana a cheek kiss.

"Hey, baby," Santana murmured tenderly. "Thank you for always thinking of me."

Yeah, it was cliché, but Rachel's accident made her appreciate Brittany more. The little things weren't so small.

"I ordered you the lasagna, too," Brittany informed.

Santana smiled. It was exactly what she wanted. "Thanks."

They were going to Rachel and Quinn's place after lunch, but there was only so much sadness Santana could take. She was going to take her time to enjoy a meal with her girlfriend. It'd been a while since they could.

"After lunch, let's get some cookies for the kids," Brittany suggested.

"Sure."

Rachel and Quinn were careful not to give the kids too much sugar. They weren't fanatical about it or anything, just careful. But lately, they were getting more lax with it. It was only to be expected, and of course, Mike was trying to pick up the slack, too, but they were all too busy to worry if the kids were getting an extra cookie here and there and honestly, it just seemed like an easy way to make the kids smile. With everything the kids had gone through over the past few months, they were all too tired _not_ to take the easy way. She wanted to do what she could to make this easier for everyone, and God, she felt so selfish and awful, but she was so, so glad this wasn't her and Brittany. The guilt of feeling that way kept her up at night because she could see what all of this was doing to the kids and she loved those kids like they were her own. Particularly Abby, and this whole thing had been hardest on her. Santana couldn't love them more if they'd come from her own body, so this was just killing her.

"Are you okay, Santana?" Brittany asked quietly.

Santana smiled and groped for Brittany's hand, their fingers intertwining. "Yeah," Santana said. "Just thinking."

"I try not to do that if I can," Brittany teased with a tiny smile.

Santana grinned.

Things got quiet at their table. They were older now, so Brittany didn't have to push Santana to talk about things anymore. Santana just needed some time and she would say things on her own.

They ate mostly in silence, which was fine with both of them-- when they were with Quinn, Rachel and the kids (which was a lot), they spent a lot of time talking just to entertain, so it was nice to have a meal without feeling obligated to talk. The silence was nice.

They finished up and stopped in at a The Queen's Bakery which was in proximity to Rachel and Quinn's apartment, to pick up some cookies before going to Rachel and Quinn's.

Santana knocked on the door and it opened a few seconds later.

Abby stood there at the door, peering up at them with dark, serious eyes. Jesus, she was Rachel's mini-me in appearance but she was totally Quinn Fabray's kid in personality. Santana thought that Lucy Q. Fabray must have been a lot like this-- serious, a little sad. Abby hadn't always been that way. She was always a serious little thing--she wasn't a giggly child, but she wasn't sad.

Santana loved the kid, and basically thought of Abby as her own. It was concerning how sad Abby became after Rachel's accident, and Rachel's return home hadn't done much to improve that. According to Quinn, the kid wasn't sleeping much, which didn't help Quinn's stress. Abby had dark circles under her eyes and Santana thought about spiriting her away for a while. The kid was smart for her age and even if she didn't understand exactly what was going on, she was old and smart enough to know something was really _wrong_. Santana thought that they owed it to Abby to tell her more than "Mama hurt her head and now she can't remember, but she'll get better." Abby seemed to think otherwise, but she wasn't saying anything. They were all in therapy, but Santana wasn't sure how efficacious play therapy was for this situation when Abby had fucking dark circles under her eyes and looked like she was losing weight when she was already small for her age. Santana was keeping an eye on the situation because if it got any worse, she'd have to say something about it. As it stood, if she said something now, she'd make Rachel or Quinn, possibly both, cry.

"Momo!" Abby cried out, throwing her arms up at Santana.

It was a bastardization of the 'mama' that Abby used to call her when Abby was very small.

"Hi cutie," Santana murmured, picking her up. Abby's tiny legs wrapped around Santana waist.

"Brittany!" Abby exclaimed, her arms reaching out to the blonde.

Santana suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at this kid's capricious ADHD, but she passed Abby to Brittany. Brittany spun around with Abby in her arms and they giggled together.

Santana watched them fondly. She felt longing and bitterness well up and carefully mashed it down. Her ongoing fight with Brittany was regarding kids-- she wanted kids desperately. It was hard not to after she'd had a hand in raising Abby and being around the kids so much. But Brittany wasn't ready. Santana understood. She and Brittany were only twenty-five, so they had some time before they really needed to worry about it. But it was a sore point and it hurt sometimes to be around the kids. She had a glimpse of what it was like to have something she wanted, but not being able to have it made it hurt a little more. It was enough to be Abby, Ben and Sarah's godmother, but she knew she would never be sustained from just being a godmother. She'd eventually have to be a mother, too. And she didn't know what to do if they waited too long. It was starting to feel like this could be one of those always-the-bridesmaid-never-the-bride situations. Santana didn't get why Brittany wasn't ready--she was so good with kids, and Santana was confident Brittany would make a wonderful mother.

Brittany set Abby on the ground and remained on her knees so she could stay at Abby's eye level. Their heads were pushed together and they were still giggling like old friends when Rachel walked into the entryway, holding hands with Ben and Sarah.

"Abby!" Rachel exclaimed. She sounded angry, but her voice was level. "You aren't allowed to open the door by yourself," she scolded. "Did you even ask who it was?"

Abby's eyes were wide and her eyes filled with tears. "Sorry, Mama," she whispered. She moved immediately toward Santana and buried her face into Santana's leg, hiding.

"Geez, boo, you don't have to be so harsh," Santana defended.

She couldn't help it, the look on Abby's face just killed her.

Rachel really hadn't been that harsh, but the thing was, she was usually much gentler. The old Rachel would have found a way of correcting Abby without making Abby, who was more sensitive than the average kid, look like she was going to cry. Maybe it was something in the tone, Santana wasn't sure. If she had to point out what Rachel did wrong, she'd have no idea. She just knew Rachel was different now in some really important ways.

During the early part of Abby's life, Santana had had a big hand in raising her, and Santana still looked at Abby like she was kind of hers. Rachel was such a stranger now, that Santana just felt the urge to be defensive.

Rachel looked baffled. "I wasn't being--" she trailed off. Now Rachel looked like she wanted to cry. "Abby, I'm sorry," she said. "Are you okay? I was just worried, honey."

Abby sniffled. "Sorry, Mama," she whispered again. Her grip on Santana tightened.

God, Abby was afraid of Rachel now. She wasn't a manipulative kid putting on an act. This was for real.

Rachel approached Abby hesitantly and got down on her knees. Santana gently nudged Abby toward Rachel, but the little girl still clung to Santana. Santana gently pulled away, even though it killed her.

Santana picked up Ben while Brittany picked up Sarah, each of them holding a child in their arms.

"I'm so sorry if I scared you, baby," Rachel whispered, her eyes watering. "I'm sorry I'm not the way I used to be. I'm trying though, baby." She hesitantly reached out and put her hands on Abby's arms. "I get confused and scared, too, Abby. Can you understand that?"

Abby nodded hesitantly.

"I'm sorry if I scare you or confuse you," Rachel said, crying openly now. "But it's not your fault, baby. I just…I don't know what I would do if something bad happened to you. I…I know I don't remember anymore, but you're still my baby. And I'm still your mom and I don't want anything bad to happen to you. Mommies are supposed to protect you and the only way I can protect you is to know who is around you, sweetheart. And I can't do that if you're going to open the door without me. Please don't do that again."

Abby sniffled. "Okay, mama." She paused. "Don't cry, mama," she pleaded softly, wiping at Rachel's face.

Rachel let out a small laugh and pulled Abby into a tight hug. They stayed that way for a long moment before Rachel picked her up and started to walk into the living room with Brittany and Santana following behind them, carrying Sarah and Ben, respectively. Santana worried about Rachel's back, she wasn't sure her friend could carry even that small weight, but this moment just seemed too important to nag.

Santana knew she and Brittany were perhaps being a little too intrusive. She and Brittany were pretty established in their careers, but neither of them were so established that they should be skipping work like this just to check on Rachel because she was alone with the kids while Quinn and Mike were at work. Abby was in kindergarten, but all three kids were enrolled at daycare, and Rachel didn't spend a lot of time alone with the kids yet.

Before the accident, the director of the daycare center would pick Abby up once kindergarten was dismissed so she could rejoin her siblings. In the immediate aftermath of the accident, the kids spent a lot of time at daycare, but now that Rachel was getting better, it was agreed that Rachel would watch the kids one day out of the week so she could spend more time with them. She still wasn't at 100% so there was no way she could watch them full-time until she was ready to go back to work. They weren't even leaving the house yet-- they'd worked out an agreement with the daycare provider that they'd temporarily drop the kids off at home on Rachel's day until she was physically stronger.

Santana and Brittany still stopped in when they could because there was this unspoken fear Rachel wouldn't be able to do this on her own after just a few weeks of being home. It was a totally reasonable fear because Rachel remembered nothing and she still needed a lot of physical therapy.

Santana walked to the kitchen to drop off the cookies she and Brittany brought and also to check the refrigerator to make sure it was stocked enough. If it wasn't, she'd send Brit out while she stayed with Rachel and the kids. Quinn and Mike were both too busy with work and Rachel still tired too easily to go out to run errands. Abby followed after her, practically clinging to her.

"What did you guys have for lunch today?" Santana asked, making conversation, but also to check.

"Mama made pastas."

Santana chuckled. The kid's grammar was all messed up. It was normal kid's stuff, but it drove the old Rachel crazy. "She made more than one pasta, baby?"

Abby blinked. "Yes, of course. If she made only one noodle, then there wouldn't be enough for everyone. That's why I said pastas."

Santana snorted. This was a losing battle. "You sure told me," she teased gently. She laughed. "Was it yummy?"

Abby nodded, her eyes dark and serious. "Mama's pastas still tastes the same. But now the kitchen gets really messy when she cooks. I wanted to help clean up, but she said she can do it by herself."

Santana swallowed hard. "What else did you have?" she forced herself to ask.

"Garlic bread and salad and juice."

Santana smiled. "Did you eat all of your salad?"

Abby nodded.

Santana grinned and crouched down. "Then you can have a cookie," she said, pulling the pink box out of the shopping bag.

Abby's eyes lit up. "What kind?"

"Take a look," Santana said, opening the box.

They were simple sugar cookies, but shaped and decorated as ducks.

Abby gasped. "Thank you, momo!" She hugged Santana tightly.

Abby was always so easy to please-- she never wanted much, just a little something nice here and there. Even as a baby, when money was _really_ tight and she didn't necessarily have everything she deserved, she could generally be pleased with a simple cuddle.

Santana held onto her for a moment, running her hand down the hair on the back of Abby's head. She just loved this kid so much.

"Momo, you're going to pull out my hair-pretty," Abby scolded primly. She adjusted the hair tie in her hair.

Santana laughed and tried not to cry at how much Abby truly was Rachel's mini-me and that Abby still called hair ties 'hair-pretties.' "Sorry, pumpkin. Did mama do your hair?"

"Mama's hands shake too much to do hair now," Abby informed matter-of-factly. "I did my own hair by myself and I combed Ben and Sarah's hair," she proclaimed proudly. "Mama said it looked cute!"

'Shit,' Santana thought.  
  
Abby crammed one entire cookie into her mouth and then ran into the living room. "Mama! Momo brought cookies!"

Santana face- palmed at the crumbs that flew out of Abby's mouth. She forgot sometimes that Abby was five years old--most of the time she was a miniature adult. Santana followed Abby out to the living room where she passed Ben and Sarah a cookie each.

Rachel smiled at Santana and Brittany. "Thank you."

"Anytime, boo," Santana said softly.

Rachel cocked her head to the side. "Boo," she repeated contemplatively, trying it out. "I--I like that." She grinned at Brittany. "Hi, boo."

Santana smiled, but it was like being slapped. 'Boo' had always just been between her and Rachel.

\--

They were still there when Mike came home. His stint on a dancing reality show was almost over and he'd have to go back to LA when it ended next week-- he'd already been out for months and he needed to get back to Tina and his own life. He'd helped his family through the hardest parts, and now Rachel was on her way to getting better. He'd contemplated just staying in New York, but he knew he could come back if he really needed to.

He was working whilst staying in New York, but only out of necessity-- the bills had to get paid somehow. If he'd had it his way, he'd be with his kids at every available moment, but he knew that most parents didn't have that opportunity. But when one lived across the country from his kids, one wanted to spend as much time with them as possible.

But everyone thought Mike was taking on way more stress than he should have. Santana thought it was enough that he even came out and stayed this long-- Chang was a good guy. He was doing it for the kids, but Santana knew he was doing it for Rachel and Quinn, too. Any other guy would have just stayed where he was at and forked over a little more money. But Mike left a steady dancing gig in LA to come to New York to help out. Santana had always respected him, but she respected him even more now.

Quinn, bearing take-out, came home not too long after that, smiling happily when she saw the kids. Rachel and Quinn gave one another shy smiles-- even after all these weeks, it was still so awkward. They were strangers to one another now, and it showed.

\--

Brittany and Santana stayed for a while after dinner. Mike and Rachel got the kids ready for bed, which Rachel tried to do as much as possible now because her fine motor skills were improving and she didn't have as much difficulty bathing the kids anymore. Brittany helped because the kids were comfortable with her and she could make their bathtime fun. Quinn stayed in the kitchen to clean up while Santana helped her.

Santana decided it was best she talk to Quinn when she had her alone. It was so rare when she did.

"Q, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What is it?" Quinn asked as she absently loaded the dishwasher.

"Q," Santana said quietly. "When Mike goes back to LA next week, I think the kids should go with him."

The spoons fell out of Quinn's hands, clattering to the ground. She whirled around and stared at Santana. "You want me to send my kids away?" she demanded, her voice cracking.

"Not forever, just until Rachel gets a little better."

"And when is that supposed to be?" Quinn demanded, her voice rising. "She may never get her memory back!"

"Quinn, Rachel needs a lot of attention and with Mike gone, I'm…I'm just afraid you aren't going to be able to do it all on your own with the kids. Not when you have to take care of Rachel, too."

"She's my girlfriend, Santana! And they're my kids. I'm not going to send anyone away just because it's going to be hard!"

"Christ, Quinn. No one is going to think you're a deadbeat just because you’re asking for a little help. Mike's their dad. You think he's going to refuse? He came out here for all these months didn't he? He'd probably kill for a little more time with them. And you know Tina loves the kids. She treats them like they're her own kids, so you know she's not going to pull any evil stepmother shit. And they have space for the kids, too. You--"

"They're _my_ kids!" Quinn shouted, kicking the dishwasher closed. She immediately looked apologetic. "They're my kids," she repeated softer. "All of them," she added pointedly.

Santana got the message and she wasn't going to push it. Not right now. Abby was still a sore point with them sometimes, but Santana knew her place. "I know," Santana said quietly. "I know, Q. But you can't do this on your own."

"They're already so confused," Quinn whispered. "Their lives have changed so much. I can't make them change even more. I just can't do it. I have to keep us all together. It can’t get better if we aren't all together."

"Quinn, Rachel needs so much--"

"She's only been home for a few weeks! She was in a coma for three months! You can't expect her to be perfect, Santana."

"Quinn…"

Quinn crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking like she was curling into herself. Quinn gave her this _look_ and Santana had to look away, because she could not stand it when Quinn looked at her like that. Like she'd just kicked Quinn in the teeth. Santana was grateful when Quinn's eyes cast downward, because she couldn't stand to look at Quinn's teary-eyed expression anymore. It just made Santana feel too guilty, but she'd honestly had the best of intentions.

Quinn was quiet for a long moment, just kind of hugging herself and staring at the floor. "Family comes first," Quinn said finally. "I'm keeping my family together no matter what. I hear what you're saying, but I can handle it. I can do this, San." Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to smile bravely. "I can do this," she repeated firmly.

She could do this. There was no way Quinn would give up on something so important.

Santana gave Quinn an assuring smile. She reached out to put her hand on Quinn's arms. "I've got faith you in, Fabgay."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up, Titty McGee."

Santana moved in closer and hugged Quinn tightly. Quinn's arms first dropped loosely to her sides before she returned the hug by wrapping her arms around Santana. Quinn cried quietly as Santana held her.

"I can do this, S," Quinn cried quietly. "This is my family. I'm going to keep it together, no matter what. I can do this. I swear."

Santana's eyes welled up. "I'm sorry, Q. I was just trying to help," Santana whispered.

Quinn sniffled. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"It's okay, Quinn. I can be your punching bag if you need it."

A choked sob tore out of Quinn's throat and she held onto Santana even more tightly, clinging to her. " _No_ ," she cried. "I don't want to do that to you. I'm just….I'm so tired, San. But I can do this. I know I can do this."

"I know you can do this. P90X didn't kick your ass, you kicked P90X's ass. I know you can do this, babe."

Quinn laughed. "Fuck P90X," she said with a sniffle. She sucked in a huge breath. "I love you, S," she whispered.

"I love you, too, Q. You know I'll always love you."

Quinn sniffled. "I love you, too."

\--

Year December 2012/early 2013

Santana thought that kissing Quinn would probably cause some serious gay panic. Fabray was infamous for reacting poorly to things. Quinn was, after all, the girl who had sex with Puck because of a fat day and got impregnated as a result. Santana wondered if things would have been different if she hadn't addressed Quinn as 'Fatty Fatty Two by Four' that day. But Quinn ended up surprising her, because there was no panic. She thought for sure Quinn would run, but instead, she stuck around. They didn't talk much about it, just lounged around on her bed listening to Annie Lennox and waiting for Berry to come around to make an appearance.

Every once in a while, they would reach out, their fingertips touching and their hands grazing together, but they didn't take it any further than that. A few hours passed by like this and Santana was glad Quinn wasn't completely freaking out.

It'd felt like a long time since she'd been like this with someone-- since Brittany. It'd been almost a month since Thanksgiving when Brittany broke up with her, but even before then, when they'd been apart, Santana didn't get to be this intimate with someone. She and Rachel invaded each other's personal space, but even then, it wasn't like _this_. She and Rachel held hands and listened to music without talking and cuddled and all that crap, but there was still something missing from all that-- that undercurrent of romance. And God, Santana could admit to herself, she missed fucking romance. She was a sex shark, but if she had to choose between sex and romance, she'd choose romance. Now that she'd gone without romance, she'd realized that romance was harder to come by. A fuck was the easiest thing in the world for her to get. But romance? No one seemed like they wanted to give her that.

Santana had to wonder what it meant that she was glad that of all the people in the world to be this close with right now, she was with Quinn.

"I liked it," Quinn admitted quietly. She was lying on her back, but she turned onto her side to face Santana.

"Wha?" Santana replied, inelegantly.

"When you kissed me."

"Der," Santana replied. "I'm a great kisser," she added smugly, but she rolled onto her side so she could look at Quinn. She gave Quinn a small, reassuring smile.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "It's not just that," she said softly. "It was about me, too. I…I think I liked it because it was with a girl." She swallowed hard. " _And_ because it…it was you, I guess."

Santana chuckled softly. "Geez, Fabray. What's with the sweet talk?" she jibed, trying to keep it light. "Trying to woo me?" she mocked gently.

Quinn didn't respond to that, but she nudged a little closer. "Don't say anything about it around my mom, okay?" she pleaded

"Quinn, I think your mom… would be okay with it. I mean, she's hanging a lot with Rachel's dads."

"Just…just don't, please, okay, San? She's always been okay with it for _other_ people, but I don't see her being okay with it for me. I…I don't want her to know yet. She's paying for college and right now, I have a place to come home to during breaks. If she found out and didn't like it…I…I don't know what she would do. And I need to figure this out for myself, too. I--I really need to go to church and pray about this. I just need time, S. Can you do that for me?"

"I'd never out you," Santana said sincerely. "I know how rough you've had it, Q. I wouldn't make it tougher. I meant what I said-- it was just a kiss, and I just thought you should have tried it once in case you never do again."

Quinn sighed. "I know other people have had it harder. Kurt made me see it once when he told me--"

Santana cut her off. "Kurt? Kurt thinks being a gay kid is the worst thing to happen to a person, but he's full of shit. That makes it seem like just being gay is something awful, like it's a disease or something and that's just insulting. He has a great dad, a great stepmom and even if he's stuck with Finn as a stepbrother, Kurt Hummel has lived the life of Riley compared to you. Everything you've had, you've worked for, everything he has, he's had handed to him. You're a fucking fox because you worked at it, Q. You got into Yale because you've always got your nose buried in a book and you worked your ass off. You're the one that reaches out to your mom, not the other way around. You're fucking resilient, and you've shown that your entire fucking life. I would never out you, but I know you. If your mom didn't take it well, you would find a way to make it through. And I got your back. Rach, too. We'd carry you through."

Quinn chuckled. "Toniiiiiight, we are young," she sang softly.

Santana laughed and nuzzled Quinn's cheek with her nose. "I'm glad to see you aren't running away screaming. College has been good for you, bitch."

Quinn smiled wryly. "Apparently, you haven't actually gone to college until you kiss a girl, so thanks, S." Her voice trembled a little and she paused for a moment in an attempt to compose herself. "I'm glad it was you," she admitted quietly. "It made sense."

"I'm glad it was me, too," Santana said gently. She grinned slyly because things were getting a little too emotional. "It sets the bar fucking high for anyone who comes after me, and at least your first kiss with a girl wasn't with some baby dyke like you. That probably would have been a disaster and you would have run screaming back to guys and found some douchey Finnept-clone and married him."

"Why are you being so mean about Finn?" Quinn asked. "I thought you guys were friends now."

"We are," Santana admitted grudgingly. "But sometimes I remember times when I resented him and I get mad again. And his nipples are seriously the size of dinner plates. It's fucking gross. _And_ he's fucking special needs."

Quinn laughed. "He's… not bright," she conceded reluctantly.

"You can say that again, Q."

Laughing, Quinn repeated, "he's not bright."

Santana stared at her for a moment and chuckled, absolutely tickled. It was a dumb joke, but coming from humorless Quinn, it was hilarious. "I'm so glad college has removed the pole from your ass, Q."

Quinn smiled and then suddenly looked contemplative and uncertain. Her head pushed closer to Santana's and they gazed at one another for a long moment. Quinn thought about what all this meant-- that kiss with Santana felt right, but she couldn't help wonder if maybe being gay really was wrong. She needed to think about this.

Santana gazed at Quinn's face and wondered if she had ever been up this close and personal to Quinn. Sure, they'd kissed a couple hours ago and even before then, they were affectionate with one another. But just being this close and looking at one another? Santana didn't think they'd ever been this close. Santana gazed at Quinn's face and she realized that even up this close, Quinn was beautiful. Her skin was flawless and Jesus, those eyes. Up close, people usually lost their luster, but Santana realized Quinn really was as close to perfect as a human being could be. Even up this close, Quinn's face was such perfection.

Quinn's mouth parted. She breathed in deeply (and loudly) to steady herself.

"Mouthbreather," Santana teased.  
  
Quinn released a shaky breath and then kissed her.

Santana allowed the kiss to happen because honestly, she'd been thinking about doing it again for the past few hours, but she didn't want to freak Quinn out. For years, she struggled against Quinn, resenting that Quinn was Sue Sylvester's favorite and the bitch in charge. She still didn't think Quinn was her superior, but at the moment, she capitulated readily, submitting easily to those soft, pink lips. Santana was glad for it-- it felt so long since she'd been properly kissed.

This kiss was slow and deep-- they took their time. Quinn was tender with her-- long, soft fingers touching Santana's cheek. The fingers on her free hand slipping under the side of Santana's neck and resting there, as if to hold her in place. Not that Santana needed to be held there.

"Don't freak out on me, Q," Santana pleaded gruffly, once they breathlessly pulled apart.

"I won't," Quinn promised solemnly. "I can do this." She swallowed hard. At least, she hoped she can do this. "I can do this," she repeated.

\--

Quinn went home a couple hours later to have dinner with her mother while Santana stayed in her bedroom thinking about Quinn.

She didn't want anything serious, but she didn't want this to be a one-time thing either. She listened to Annie Lennox on repeat, listening to 'Pavement Cracks' again and again until it lost all meaning. She wasn't even sure how she let the whole thing happen, she just knew that if it happened, she probably wanted it to happen. She knew Quinn was confused about…everything. But she was confused, too, and she needed some time to ruminate.

\--  
She had dinner with her parents that night and once she was finished, she sent a text to Quinn and Rachel asking if either of them wanted to catch a movie. There was a lot of texting back and forth and somehow, Rachel convinced them both to see the Les Miserables movie that opened recently.

Quinn didn't drive anymore if she could get away with it. Santana was certain it was PTSD, even if Quinn denied it. But she wasn't going to push, because she'd already pushed Quinn on something she wasn't quite ready for once that day, and Santana wasn't going to push her luck. After dinner, both Santana's parents had to go back to work, and needed their cars, so Rachel borrowed one of her dads' cars and picked them up.

The girl canNOT. Drive. At. All.

God bless her heart, she tried, especially with Quinn in the car. She tried to go the speed limit, she signaled before she changed lanes, and she checked her mirrors constantly. But she was just unsteady--driving simply wasn't one of her talents. Santana resented it a little because she was sitting in the front and she could see Quinn in the backseat through the rearview and side mirrors gripping the grab handle in the back. She looked scared and this would have been funny if Quinn hadn't been in a horrific car accident not too long ago.

"Rachel, goddammit, would you watch the fucking road?" Santana snapped when she saw Quinn wince when Rachel braked abruptly. Again.

"I _am_ watching it," Rachel huffed. She was a little peeved that Santana kept snapping at her about her driving. Granted she was the driver by default, not by choice, but she was, in fact, the driver and she was insulted Santana seemed to think she would be anything less than careful, particularly because both Santana and Quinn were so precious to her, and she'd never want to be the cause of any harm that would come to them. She especially took caution because Quinn was in the car and Quinn was scared in cars.

"Just be careful! Jesus!"

"Santana, please try to refrain from taking the Lord's name in vain in the presence of Quinn. You know it is in opposition to her religious beliefs. I don't know why you keep doing it."

"Oh, Jesus," Santana said without really thinking about it. "Oops, sorry, Q."

Quinn gave her a small smile. She found Santana absolutely endearing for that, but she really was a little scared of Rachel's driving.

"Rachel, spare me the lecture and what the _hell_ would you know about Jesus? You're Jewish," Santana snapped.

She wanted to smack Rachel and tell her to just take a look at Quinn and dare her to still be so cavalier about her driving skills.

"Quinn has convinced me to become a Jew for Jesus. I even joined the group on campus. They meet on Thursdays at 8pm on campus."

Rachel and Quinn smiled at one another through the reflection in the rearview mirror. Rachel wasn't very religious, but Quinn was, and Quinn was touched that Rachel was giving it a chance for her. During their Thursday night talks after Rachel got home, they tended to chat a little about Scripture. Quinn knew Rachel didn't get _why_ her faith was so important to her, but the mere fact that it was important to her made Rachel endeavor to understand. It meant a lot to her that her friend would do this-- not even people she dated ever made an effort like that. Joe Hart was already one of the faithful, but he was immature in his faith. She'd always felt he was too rigid and lacked the necessary compassion. Quinn was trying to be more compassionate, too, and she was learning a lot on how to be that way just by talking to Rachel more because Rachel seemed to have an innate sense of compassion and forgiveness. There were times back in high school she didn't feel as bad about her attraction to Rachel because the other girl just seemed so good.

Santana's mouth parted to make some sort of snarky retort--those two were so gay for each other. And Rachel…jeez, it was so clear to Santana that Rachel had feelings for Quinn even if she couldn't recognize it yet. There was so much there to mock with that Jew for Jesus thing, but she realized that Rachel was so far off the reservation, Santana didn't know what to say. She shut her mouth and her head tilted a little to the side, trying to digest that bit of information. That certainly explained the Bible that was rolling around their apartment, but Santana honestly thought her parents left it the last time they visited. They accepted the gay thing, but they also thought Santana could work on her relationship with God a little. The Bible was a copy of the New International Version, and her parents, like most Catholics, used the New American Bible. But her parents leaving a non-USCCB approved translation of the Bible in her apartment made more sense that Rachel fucking Berry becoming a Jew for Jesus at Quinn Fabray's behest.

Santana glanced at Quinn through the rearview mirror and their eyes met. Santana raised a questioning eyebrow. Quinn shrugged in response because she didn't even know how to communicate that articulation, let alone with non-verbal signals. Rachel drove on obliviously.

Once she parked, both Santana and Quinn released breaths of relief. Cripes. Putting their lives in Rachel's midget hands was a mistake. Could she even see over the steering wheel? Could her tiny ass hands even hold the steering wheel properly?

They got out of the car and Rachel ran ahead to purchase tickets-- she was way too excited. She was practically skipping.

Santana and Quinn linked arms once they got close enough. Santana wasn't sure who initiated it, but they just sort of came together. Santana nuzzled Quinn's neck, her breath tickling Quinn's collarbone.

They walked into the theatre and saw Rachel standing at one of the kiosks, foot tapping impatiently on the ground. They gazed at her in profile--she was practically vibrating with excitement and in her cream colored coat with her glowing complexion and shiny hair, she looked like some kind of fancy, sumptuous dessert. For reasons neither of them understood, they dropped each other's arms without communicating and waited for Rachel to turn to see them. She turned and beamed when she saw them, running over to them with the tickets waving in the air.

"Let's go! We need to get good seats. We don't even need to stop at the concessions stand because we all had dinner."

Rachel ran ahead without them without waiting for a response.

Santana shook her head.

"Come on, it's kind of endearing," Quinn said.

"I live with her," Santana shot back. "You get her in small doses. She's been going crazy every time a new trailer gets released or like, she sees a new billboard."

Quinn gave her a faint smile. "I wouldn't mind larger doses," she said softly.

"Yeah, yeah. You can start the New Haven chapter of the hobbit's fan club."

They stopped to buy a couple drinks anyway--they trusted Rachel to find the perfect seats. Even if they were already occupied, Rachel would make the occupants move for Les Mis.

Santana and Quinn found theatre 6 and walked in. They found Rachel immediately, and she began to wave frantically at them.

Quinn and Santana looked at one another and made their way over to her, flanking her on either side. "Hi, Quinn," Rachel said, beaming at the blonde who sat to her left. "Hi, boo," she greeted Santana, who sat to her right.

"Hey, boo," Santana said, feeling her irritation toward Rachel wash away. She just didn't get this soft spot she had for this girl. It was _baffling_.

\--

The movie was better than Santana thought it would be, but she believed Rachel would have done it better. She didn't have to express it out loud, because Rachel was very vocal about it.

Santana wasn't tired when they left the theatre to enter the lobby and contemplated what she could suggest so that they didn't have to go home yet. She froze when she saw Brittany pushing Artie in a wheelchair, having clearly left a movie themselves. Brittany spotted her at that moment and also froze for a moment before she and Artie made their way over.

"Hi Santana, Quinn, Rachel," Brittany greeted.

"Hi, Brit," Quinn said, with a smile. She stepped forward and hugged Brittany. She bent down to kiss Artie's cheek.

Rachel did the same, leaving Santana and Brittany to stare awkwardly at one another.

'Are they dating again?' Santana wondered. She decided she needed to be mature about this-- she didn't have to subject Rachel or Quinn to some awkward encounter. "Hi Brittany," she said politely. "Hey Artie."

"Hey," Artie said.

It was too soon after being dumped for Santana to initiate any kind of physical contact with Brittany, so she opted to become suddenly fascinated with one of the movie posters and avoided even looking at Brittany.

"Okay, San," Brittany said, disappointed. "Maybe we can hang out before you go back to New York?"

"Maybe," Santana said flippantly, still unable to make eye contact. No, she definitely did not want to hang out, not the way Brittany intended. She didn't want to hang out platonically.

"Okay," Brittany said quietly. "It was really good to see all you guys."

"You, too, Brit," Quinn said. "I'll see you soon, okay? I'll call you."

"Great," Brittany said. "We can watch music videos and you can tell me how much better I am than the people who made them."

"Um, sure, Brit," Quinn said.

"We'll all hang soon," Artie added. "Like a reunion or something."

Artie and Brittany left. Santana watched Brittany walk away from her and wondered how long she had to love Brittany S. Pierce before she could love someone else and how often Brittany had to break her heart before she finally _learned_.

\--

Rachel dropped Quinn off first since she lived closer to the theatre, but Quinn still got to ride shot gun.

"Text me when you get home to let me know you made it okay," Quinn requested, her voice low. She and Rachel leaned in close to one another, gazing at each other for such a prolonged moment Santana thought for sure they were going to kiss. It was the sort of moment kissing felt more natural than not.

"I will," Rachel promised quietly. She pulled Quinn into a hug. "Don't worry," she whispered into Quinn's ear.

"How can I not worry with the way you drive?"

Rachel laughed and pulled away. "I assure you that I am a safe driver," she huffed playfully.

Santana snorted with affectionate derision. She knew it seemed like she was doing it deliberately to be sarcastic or something, but honestly, it just came out. Plus, she thought it was lame they didn't kiss. It might have been a little awkward since they were in the same car, but the sight of a good kiss between two of her best friends would have definitely been one for the spank bank.

Quinn slipped out of the car, while Santana slipped from the backseat into the front. Rachel got out of the car as well and Santana and Rachel walked Quinn the her door. Quinn and Santana exchanged a hug, holding onto one another tightly before Rachel and Quinn hugged as well. Finally, Quinn turned away to walk into her house. Santana felt sort of foolish that they were being such girls about this, but she couldn't help how emotional she felt right now. She knew they were being dumb acting like it was going to be a long time before they saw one another again.

Quinn turned back once when she took her first step into the house to wave. Santana and Rachel waved back. Then she stepped inside and shut the door.

When Rachel dropped Santana off, she put the car into park and pulled Santana into a long, tight hug. "What was she thinking when she let go of you, boo?" she whispered softly into Santana's ear.

Santana fought the urge to cry because she just wanted to understand. She didn't get any kind of explanation, just a "I don't want to do this anymore, but can we still be friends?"

"Whatever, boo," Santana said gruffly.

The touch of Rachel's fingertips on Santana's cheek was indescribably tender. "I have your back," Rachel said sweetly

Santana was tempted to kiss her-- the moment just seemed to dictate it. But maybe she was a coward, just like Quinn and Rachel. They were all cowards, so maybe this was why they were all single and lovelorn. Santana wanted to kiss her, partly out of carnal desire and partly because it seemed more appropriate to do so than not. But she was afraid, so instead, Santana chuckled wryly. She couldn't blame Quinn and Rachel for dancing around things, when she was doing the dance, too.

"For how long?" Santana asked.

For how long would Rachel have her back, really? After all, how many times did Brittany tell her the same? She didn't think anyone really had her back but her. But she wanted to believe Rachel would.

"Forever and ever," Rachel swore, crossing an X over her heart and looking at Santana with solemn, earnest eyes. "Really," she said, leaning in and pressing a slightly wet kiss to Santana's cheek. Rachel pulled back, but hovered there, her lips just centimeters from Santana's cheek.

It was a moonless, starless sort of night. The only illumination came from the streetlights and the headlights from Rachel's car. Rachel was running the heater on low-- just enough to be comfortable, not suffocating, and Santana suddenly found breathing was a concentrated effort. She was on edge, restless, breathless. The world was off its axis. She reminded herself how to breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

"Boo--" Her voice cracked.

"Try to forget about her for tonight," Rachel murmured, pulling back so that she rested comfortably into the driver's seat. She stared straight ahead, both her hands on the steering wheel now. "I hope tomorrow will be better than today."

Her voice was different suddenly-- no longer gentle and tender, but casual. Breezy-- a too adept simulation of the carefree college girl. But her eyes were wide and she was breathing slightly louder than normal. She looked terrified.

Santana decided not to press it.

Santana swallowed hard. "Goodnight, boo."

"Bye, boo."

Santana got out of the car and started to walk toward her door, when Rachel got out of the car. Rachel walked Santana to the door, but the air between them was almost suffocating. She started to unlock her door, but felt slightly unnerved because she felt Rachel's eyes on her. Once she got it open, she turned and smile at Rachel.

"Goodnight, boo."

"Goodnight, boo," Rachel echoed.

Santana waited at the threshold of the door as Rachel walked back to her car. She waited until Rachel was in her car and the engine started. Santana waved and Rachel waved back, and drove away, speeding. Santana shook her head-- Rachel Berry was a terrible driver.

That night, when Santana lied in bed, she stared at the ceiling and thought of Brittany. But her thoughts wandered toward Quinn and then to Rachel. She rolled onto her side, clutching a pillow to her chest.

She didn't know what the fuck she was doing.

\--

Quinn showed up the next day at mid-morning. Santana was still in bed, dozing. She had a restless night and she woke up intermittently so she actually watched the sun come up that morning, cursing it the entire time. She had weird dreams that started out where she was married to Brittany and suddenly Brittany morphed into Quinn and then into Rachel. Having Quinn just show up in real life was a little disconcerting even if they drifted in and out of each other's homes as though they were their own.

"You look comfortable, Santana," Quinn said. "I think I'll join you. Move over."

Santana groaned a little in protest but scooted so Quinn could get into the bed.

"Lazy," Quinn chided.

"Fuck it, Q. I slept like shit. Let me sleep."

"I guess I can nap. I've been up since five."

Santana didn't bother to open her eyes as she snorted. "Okay, Rachel Berry 2.0."

Santana fell into a deep sleep that was only disturbed when Rachel came over around noon, looking for people to go to lunch with.

"You guys are still sleeping?" Rachel asked disapprovingly. "You are burning daylight."

"Shut up," Santana and Quinn said together.

Santana wondered why her brother, Victor, just allowed anyone to come into their house.

"Aren't you guys hungry?" Rachel pressed.

"We're still sleeping," Quinn said.

Rachel let out an exasperated breath before she leaped into the bed. Santana and Quinn immediately began protesting, thinking Rachel was going to try to bully them out of the bed. But instead, Rachel wiggled her way into the middle of the bed, into that space between Santana and Quinn. "Make some space for me, you guys look comfortable. I think I'll join you."

Leave it to Rachel to want to be in the middle, Santana thought. She caught Quinn's eye and Quinn looked away. Santana wondered if this is what Rachel and Quinn did with one another when they were alone together, taking naps and being cutesy by telling one another "move over, I think I’ll join you."

"I've been up since four," Rachel announced. "Baking. I suppose I could nap." She paused contemplatively. "It's funny how one's tastes change as one gets older-- the things we hated as children, naps and spankings for instance, are things we enjoy now."

Santana paused on the spankings part and she knew for sure Fabray's brain was short-circuiting. But if she pursued this line of thought, she'd only get horny and that was not ideal. Really, was there a non-sexual way to take that statement?

"Boo, if you aren't going to sleep, I'm going to kick you out of my bed. I'm on vacation and I deal with this enough back in New York."

Even without looking, Santana knew Rachel was sulking. Rachel was like that-- she sulked quietly because she hoped someone would ask her what's wrong.

"Just go to sleep for a little bit, Rach," Quinn murmured. "And then I promise I'll buy you lunch."

Rachel practically purred and then she fell silent. Santana wished she had the talent to make Rachel shut up, but not fall into a sullen, hurt silence. She needed to learn from Quinn how to make Rachel silent in a way that was contented, and not wounded.

When Santana woke up it was one in the afternoon and it was only because her brother burst into her room without knocking. Victor was in grad school in Texas and home for winter break as well. He bugged the living shit out of her.

"Dude, what's going on here?" Victor asked, when he came upon the sight of the three girls sleeping in the bed together.

"It looks like that movie you tried to get me to rent once," Victor's girlfriend, Mandy, snarked.

"What the hell do you want?" Santana demanded.

"We’re ordering a pizza. Are you girls going to join us?" Mandy asked.

"No," Santana said, sitting up and stretching. "We’re going to head out."

"Okay," Mandy said. "As you were."

Santana went to the bathroom to become presentable. When she got back to her room, Rachel and Quinn were giggling together, their heads close together, foreheads practically touching.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Rachel and Quinn chorused together.

Santana rolled her eyes, longing a little for times gone by when Rachel and Quinn pretended they hated one another. Sometimes, when the two of them were together, it was like being around Tweedledee and Tweedledumb.

\--

They chose Breadstix because Santana had a hankering for breadsticks. Santana sometimes felt like the third wheel because Jesus, when did Rachel and Quinn become so _close_? But other times, she remembered Quinn was one of her best friend and how Rachel somehow wormed her way into becoming one, too. But she wasn't blind and she wasn't an idiot. She saw the way Quinn looked at Rachel-- with all that self-contained, long-repressed, unspoken longing. And the way Rachel looked at Quinn wasn't exactly platonic. Sometimes, Santana tried to have an outsider's perspective and she realized that if she didn't actually know them, she'd think they were a couple

Santana loved them both but sometimes she couldn't quite believe they were all still friends and she and Brittany are not. Brittany was her first true friend and it's still hard to fathom and even harder to accept that she and Brittany aren't really anything to one another anymore. Brittany will always mean something to her, but it was clear to Santana she meant nothing to Brittany now. They were able to survive that summer when Brittany got lost in the sewer, but they weren't able to survive a few months apart in different cities. It made no sense.

\--

After lunch, they headed back to Santana's house and lounged in front of the TV in the living room watching movies on Netflix for a couple of hours until Rachel announced she had to go--she had plans that evening with Mike Chang. She invited Santana and Quinn to come along, but Santana remembered the way Mike eyed Rachel when they ran into him on Rachel's birthday and Santana thought it was best if she didn't cockblock. He was hunky yet dorky, which was sort of perfect for someone like Rachel.

It wasn't a discussion, but after Rachel left, Santana just headed up the stairs and Quinn followed. It seemed sort of natural because once Santana and Quinn walked Rachel to the door, the stairs were _right_ there. It seemed so obvious they should head up.

Santana locked the door behind them-- it wasn't calculated or anything. It simply seemed the only thing to do.

It started out innocuously-- Santana walked over to her laptop and cued up some music. She deliberately avoided Annie Lennox (the soundtrack to their first kiss) and decided on something more neutral. Bats for Lashes. The first song that came on was a cover-- 'Kangaroo'. When Santana and Rachel listened to music together in their little New York City apartment, it was always something upbeat, unless Rachel was thinking about Finn. They spent plenty of nights dancing in their tiny ass living room to the Isley Brothers or Young the Giant. When they were both lonesome for Quinn, it was always that oldies stuff that Quinn seemed to love. But when Santana listened to music with Quinn, it was always precisely this sort of sad bastard stuff.

Quinn initiated the kiss--eyes shy, breaths uneven and hands uncertain until Santana smiled into the kiss. That emboldened Quinn, and Santana gladly gave into her. She tugged Quinn close and her hands fisted into Quinn's hair, her fingernails lightly raked over Quinn's scalp. Quinn seemed to like that.

"Let's have some fun, Q," Santana muttered.

"Okay," Quinn whispered. "Okay."

\--

There was a time when Santana would have taken some smirking satisfaction that she could make Quinn Fabray drop her skirt and beg to be fucked. But now, she just thought it was hot. There was also a time when she would have been self-satisfied that it only took a week of making out for Quinn to give it up, but honestly, they were kind of on an accelerated timeline because winter break was concluding, so really it had less to do with her and more to do with the confines of time.

They never talked about it, but they just seemed to agree that they shouldn't tell Rachel.

Santana thought maybe something would go down between Rachel and Chang, but it didn't seem like it. Rachel denied it and Mike still looked at her with all that unconsummated lust.

\--

Santana wasn't trying to be misleading and she didn't want to think about what it meant that she and Quinn both wanted to keep this a secret from Rachel. But it was honestly kind of a thrill. She and Quinn would sneak kisses or hold hands when Rachel wasn't looking or in the bathroom or whatever. A couple times they almost got caught.

It was definitely about the thrill, but it was also about the girl and Santana wanted to ride this out for as long as it could go. And when Quinn finally whispered that she was ready, Santana was thrilled for the chance.

\--


	4. Chapter 4

  
\--

Quinn was shy about sex-- that much Santana expected. She was, after all, fairly inexperienced. Rather than viewing Quinn as a conquest, Santana felt flattered Quinn trusted her that much, particularly because she knew how much Quinn must be struggling internally with her religious beliefs. She wished she could make fun of Quinn for it, but it wasn't that long ago Santana used to believe she'd go to hell for loving Brittany. It creeped her out a little Quinn sometimes cried after they had sex and she _always_ prayed, but Santana thought this was just something Quinn needed to go through. And in all honesty, Santana was glad to deal with it as opposed to Quinn going through this with someone who could potentially be an asshole to her.

But even if Quinn was shy about sex, she was willing to be adventurous. Santana wasn't going to try to push for anything too extreme, but she was thoroughly turned out by the fact that Quinn got growly when Santana talked dirty.

"God, your pussy is so pretty when it wants me," Santana muttered, draping Quinn's calves over her shoulders so that the heels of Quinn's feet dug into her back.

Quinn was wet and she was trembling so hard, her skin was practically vibrating. Was this what it was like to be a vampire? To practically feel the blood coursing through someone's veins? Fuck, Santana was willing to sparkle like some drippy club-kid for the rest of her life if she could be guaranteed sex like this.

"San. San, please," Quinn pleaded.

The girl was sex-starved, Santana thought. This is what happened when a person willingly deprived themselves for so long of something that felt so good.

God, this was the best-- when one of those repressed, always in control types begged. It was different with Brittany who was so open to anything sexual, that she was cavalier. That was its own brand of hot, but Quinn was in a class by herself. Not a higher class, of course, just different.

"I'd never leave you hanging," Santana promised sincerely.

Quinn gave her a small smile. She believed Santana when she said that. A strangled moan choked out of Quinn's throat the moment Santana pressed her face between the blonde's legs.

Quinn clearly wanted this so bad and the closer Quinn got to losing control, the wetter Santana got. She was a little surprised, but unashamed at the puddle forming under her. It wouldn't take much to push her over.

"Come on, Q," Santana encouraged. "Make some noise for me, baby."

It was like Quinn endeavored to be as quiet as possible during sex, always trying to retain as much control as possible. Or maybe she thought if she were quiet, God wouldn't hear her.

Santana's hands gripped Quinn's thighs and then slowly ran her hands up and down the length of her thighs as she continued to eat Quinn out. Quinn's skin felt like silk and Santana scratched her nails down all that pale perfection-- it was satisfying to mark up something so untainted.

Quinn put her hand in her mouth and bit down to muffle her cries as she came hard.

It wasn't the noise that Santana wanted, but she smirked slowly as she wiped at her mouth and chin.

Quinn pulled back from Santana and sat up. She pushed Santana onto her back and began kissing Santana's face all over. It was practically like Quinn was trying to clean her up and this, of course, made Santana smirk.

Quinn kissed down Santana's body-- sucking on her neck and then her breasts, continuing her kisses on Santana's belly before beginning to kiss between her legs.

Quinn was an overachiever and it didn't take long for her to accomplish her goal. She still had a hard time believing she was actually having sex with a _girl_. There was a time in her life when she'd look up images of situations like this on the internet and rub her hand between her legs with the door locked, certain it was the closest she'd ever get to what she really wanted. She liked guys, too, and she'd enjoyed sex with Puck, but she'd also longed to know what it was like with a woman. And now she had this, with Santana of all people, and _God_ , for the first time, she understood why there was an actual book called _The Joy of Sex_.

Santana chuckled joyfully as she tried to catch her breath. She pulled Quinn up to her and cradled her in her arms, pressing kisses to Quinn's temples. "Christ, Q, who knew you had _that_ in you?" Santana whispered.

Quinn just laughed.  
\--

When they were alone, they spent the rest of winter break that way. They didn't have a lot of time alone-- there were social obligations with friends and family. But they managed to make time.

Santana tried to avoid Brittany as much as she could-- Brittany texted and called, but Santana chose not to respond. She saw Brittany around a few times, but she always managed to flee the scene before Brittany could approach her. Rachel and Quinn were still friends with Brittany and they each hung out with Brittany a few times, but they both made it clear that their loyalty was to Santana. Even Mike, who'd dated and once loved Brittany made it clear that Santana had gotten him in the split.

When it was time for everyone to go back to school, Mike, Rachel and Santana took the train into New York and Quinn followed along, planning to spend at least one night with Rachel and Santana before she took the metro to New Haven.

\--

Rachel had minimal respect for other people's personal space, but Santana never really noticed it until they got back to New York. They shared a room out of financial necessity, but they had separate beds. Even so, they frequently ended up sleeping in the same bed-- Rachel would want to cuddle and she'd end up falling asleep in Santana's bed. Santana didn't mind, even if she thought she would-- Rachel didn't take up much space. Santana grudgingly admitted to herself (and only to herself) that she had to get her cuddles on, too. She never even thought twice about it until they got back to their shoebox New York City apartment and compared it to her spacious childhood home. Somehow sharing with Rachel wasn't suffocating like Santana thought it would be.

When they got back to New York, Santana became acutely aware of how close she and Rachel had become-- it's not only that they frequently slept in the same bed, snuggled on the couch and walked in on each other in the bathroom with no shame. They'd already seen each other naked in locker rooms and back stage at competitions, but this was the sort of intimacy that formed solely from living with one another. Santana realized she could communicate with Rachel nonverbally-- Rachel just seemed to be able to read her, so when Santana had a bad day, Rachel was there with a 'special brownie' (Rachel refused to identify her source apparently under the impression that Santana would become 'dependent' on them but fuck, the midget went to a performing arts college--Rachel would be a loser if she _didn't_ have a hookup), snacks and a _Bring it On_ marathon. She thought only Brittany could read her like that.

Quinn and Santana talked every night, though usually through texts. Rachel was dangerously nosy, but she respected Santana's privacy enough not to grab Santana's phone, though she asked "who are you texting?" with alarming frequency.

Santana knew Rachel and Quinn talked every night, too, and so it felt a little strange to Santana-- this closeness and distance with both. Rachel was a topic of discussion when she spoke with Quinn, just as Quinn was a topic of discussion when she spoke with Rachel, but none of them talked about what was obviously happening between the three of them. It made sense, she never enjoyed owning up to difficult things in her own life.

\--

Santana and Rachel visited Quinn in New Haven that first weekend back at school-- the three of them sharing an embarrassing group hug in front of Quinn's dorm.

Quinn grew up being taught such displays of emotion were embarrassing and gauche. But seeing two of her best friends in front of her, she just gave into the spirit. Quinn grabbed Rachel into a tight hug, both of them laughing quietly.

"It's so good to see you," Rachel cried, actual teeny tiny tears in her eyes.

"I'm so glad you're here," Quinn admitted thickly.

Even after they separated, they held one another-- grasping each other by the arms. They gazed into one another's eyes, giving each other a long look.

The way they looked at one another was so intense, Santana thought for sure they'd kiss. But they didn't and then it was Santana's turn. Santana threw her arms out and then there was Quinn. It just felt so right to have Quinn in her arms again. Quinn's nose nuzzled Santana's ear before they separated and they shared surreptitious smiles, each harboring a multitude of filthy thoughts they intended to keep secret from Rachel.

Rachel tapped Santana's shoulder and held her arms out, looking expectantly at Santana.

"Seriously?" Santana asked. "We live together."

Rachel shrugged. She smiled widely. She looked like some tiny ass mischievous pixie. Ugh, it irritated Santana that she found that face to be so cute.

"Ai, pinche Rachel! Fine," Santana said, stepping forward and hugging the midget.

Quinn laughed warmly at her. She threw her arms around the both of them and the three of them walked in a huddle into Quinn's room.

Quinn was happy-- she was still the same person she always was, but now she wasn't as afraid to be herself as she used to be. She had two of her best friends visiting her in college and there was none of the backstabbing and back-biting of high school. She honestly never thought she'd ever be able to have this. She didn't want anything more at the moment-- she was completely content.

\--

Santana and Quinn stole a few moments here and there-- it was easier than expected. Rachel had a short attention span and therefore easily distractible. And she was a social butterfly who'd already made more friends during visits at Yale than Quinn had since the semester started. Rachel would run off ahead of them to catch up with someone while Santana and Quinn would trail behind to steal a kiss.

It was downright charming to see Quinn so playful.  
\--

Santana and Rachel took the metro back to New York on Sunday night. They sat side by side with Rachel's head resting on the crook of Santana's shoulder.

"I wish Yale were in New York and not New Haven," Rachel commented mournfully. "I'm so worried about her being by herself in _Connecticut_. Really, what is there to do in Connecticut?"

"Don't worry about her, boo," Santana said. "Q could rule that school if she wanted. She dominates."

Rachel pouted. "Not anymore," she said. "She's different now. She's…she's like an old man since the accident."

Santana chuckled. "An old man? Rach--"

"Hear me out," Rachel protested. "She just seems sad. Even when she's happy, she seems sad."

"Quinn's always been like that," Santana said gruffly. "She has Leonard Cohen's soul in Grace Kelly's body."

"She doesn't socialize," Rachel whispered. She sounded heartbroken. "What if she's lonely? I bet you anything she's lonely."

"She never liked being around people anyway, boo. She just did it in high school because that's what everyone expected of her. If Quinn had it her way, she'd just hole up in a house in the middle of the woods with a bunch of books for the rest of her life."

"See? Old man!"

"So, she's our old man friend. That's just who she is. We still like you and you're _short_. That's way worse."

Rachel groped for one of Santana's hands and then pinched Santana's wrist.

"Ow, stop it," Santana said, slapping Rachel's hand away. But she didn't shove Rachel's head off her shoulder. "Don't worry about Quinn, Rach. She's happy the way she is. She's finally being who she really is."

Rachel pouted. "I know, but I don't want her to be lonely."

"We'll keep visiting her, Rach, and we'll make sure she visits us. We won't let her turn into the Unabomber."

Rachel scowled. "She's not the Unabomber! She's…she's _Thoreau_!"

Santana snorted. "She likes bacon too much to be Thoreau, babe."

Rachel gave her a blinding smile. "We'll make sure she doesn't buy some isolated cabin in the woods with only books, old records and a typewriter to keep her company, right?"

"A typewriter?" Santana snorted.

"She's kind of a hipster."

Santana chuckled. "We'll make sure she doesn't make the full transformation into a hipster. And we'll make sure she doesn't turn into some mountain man type, too, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel said happily with a wide grin, appeased. "Promise she can come this weekend if she isn't busy."

"Of course, boo. Now shut up."

"Okay."

Rachel was quiet for like two seconds before she asked, "did you know the human eyeball weighs one ounce? I read about it on twitter."

Santana rolled her eyes and then tried to go to sleep.

She'd come to realize Rachel talked so much to stop herself from becoming too pensive and when she got too pensive, she got sad. She probably had a lot to be pensive about lately.

\--

Quinn did visit that weekend. She arrived on a Friday night and as always, Santana and Rachel picked Quinn up at the station together.

Rachel threw herself into Quinn's arms and they hugged hard and long enough that they even spun around a few times. Rachel rocked Quinn to-and-fro. Rachel laughed deliriously and Quinn just smiled wide enough that her grin nearly cracked her face open.

Santana rolled her eyes at the display. She thought it was ludicrous-- they'd only seen each other the prior weekend and they spoke every day. They were acting like it'd been eons since they last saw one another.

"Hey, San," Quinn greeted.

"Q," Santana acknowledged.

They grinned at one another and then Santana grabbed Quinn by the hand and yanked her forward. They hugged and Santana buried her face into Quinn's hair and breathed in. She knew she was giving into the behavior she'd _just_ found ridiculous in her friends, but she was just so happy Quinn was here.

They ate dinner together and then lounged on the couch in a pile with Quinn in the middle to watch television. Rachel's head rested on the crook of Quinn's neck while Quinn's head rested on the crook of Santana's neck. Santana had her legs and feet propped on the coffee table, but they laid diagonally so that her legs draped over Quinn's lap and her feet brushed against Rachel's feet, as Rachel also had her legs and feet propped up on the coffee table.

Rachel dozed off during the movie-- exhausted from a brutal class with her harpy of a professor, Cassandra July. Santana and Quinn took the opportunity to kiss-- just a few gentle and playful grazes. But Santana noticed Quinn was holding onto Rachel's hand.

\--

The next morning, Rachel left the apartment early to get in some practice time on campus. She was so down on herself lately, particularly about the way she looked and the way she moved and danced. Her dance ability had never been a problem for her before and Santana had no idea what the hell that Cassandra July woman was going on about-- Santana saw the way Rachel danced around the apartment and there was no way that professor should be so harsh with Rachel. The other side effect was that Rachel was obsessive about her diet. She was already vegan, but now she cut out anything she considered too fattening. She was losing weight, but Santana hadn't called her out on it yet because as far as she could see, Rachel was still eating even if she needed to eat a little more. She was keeping an eye out on the situation because she knew if she brought it up now, Rachel would just be defensive. But they looked after one another, so Santana was monitoring.

Still, Santana and Quinn took the opportunity that Rachel's relentless self-loathing and body image issues presented to fuck for as many times as Rachel's absence would allow.

\--  
Quinn laughed during sex-- and not in a mocking sort of way or in a giggly 'I'm ticklish' sort of way. And she didn't laugh out of discomfort, at least, Santana didn't think so. This thing between them was surprisingly _un_ awkward. Quinn laughed in this gorgeous, happy sort of way that made Santana want to propose on the spot--if it weren't for the fact she wasn't the sort of person that would allow passion to outrun good sense. Not again, anyway.

But Jesus, seeing Quinn Fabray's o-face was a religious experience onto itself-- the way her head rolled back, her eyes shut, her mouth parted. Santana could see the veins in Quinn's neck straining for control. The _sounds_ she made. God. She had to be doing something right if she could get Quinn all worked up like that.

\--  
Afterward, they were lying in bed, cuddled against one another, each of them on their sides. Santana's right hand was held in Quinn's left and their fingers were brushing against one another, playing with each other.

"What is this, S?" Quinn asked with a slight tremble in her voice.

"It doesn't have to be a big thing," Santana muttered. "I've just needed someone to tide me over after Brit dropped me like I was some big turd."

Quinn made a face, clearly disgusted. "That was really gross." She paused. "Wait, what do you mean tide you over? I'm tiding you over?"

"It doesn't need to go any further than this, Q," Santana said. "I see the way you look at her."

"Rachel has nothing to do with this. I don't look at her in any kind of abnormal way."

"Funny how you knew I meant Rachel when I only said 'her,'" Santana said dryly.

Quinn's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her mouth finally closed and her lips pursed. "And I bet you've had nothing but innocent thoughts about her," she said flatly. She tried to move her hand away but Santana held onto it.

Santana shrugged. "I'm a sex shark and have you seen those legs? Half the time she walks around half naked like I'm not even here. So, _yeah_ , I've had the occasional dirty thought about her."

Quinn arched an eyebrow. "Which half?"

"What?"

"Which half is naked? Top or bottom?"

Santana grinned. "It varies. Sometimes, it's a t-shirt and underwear. Sometimes it's a bra and shorts."

Quinn sulked. "How can she not have a better developed sense of modesty? She grew up with two fathers. "

"Yeah, but they weren't home much, especially as she got older. I think they got scared off by puberty or something. She's used to treating everything like it's her own space."

Quinn chuckled. "That's our girl," she said lightly.

It was only when Rachel walked into the bedroom at that moment that Santana and Quinn realized they'd completely lost all track of time.

Rachel stared at them, and there was no way they could pretend this was something innocent-- they were naked and the room smelled _clearly_ of what they'd done.

"Wha--what's going on?" Rachel asked, staring at them.

"Rachel--"

"How long has this been going on?"

"Rachel--"

"Oh my _God_!"

"Rachel, will you just calm your tits before I have to smack you?!" Santana demanded.

"What am I supposed to do? Take of my clothes and say 'oh, you guys look comfortable, move over, I think I'll join you'?"

Quinn and Santana were quiet for a moment, stunned.

"Um, can you?" Santana asked tentatively.

"Ugh!"

"I mean, is that like, a possibility? Or have you completely ruled it out and now you're just doing that sarcastic Rachel Berry thing?" Santana clarified.

Rachel stomped her foot-- she _actually_ stomped her foot. "No, that is not a possibility right now!"

"Oh," Santana and Quinn said together, clearly disappointed.

Quinn was horrified with herself for letting that slip out, and her expression showed it. Her hand actually drifted up to cover her mouth at her faux pas. She blushed when she realized she could smell Santana on her fingertips. She could almost taste her again. There really was no way of circumventing this.

"Um, so when you say 'right now' are you leaving something open for the future or…"

"Not helping, Santana," Quinn said lowly.

"You are very galling, Santana Lopez," Rachel huffed.

"So, like, I'm the only person in this room who thought about that?"

Both Quinn and Rachel looked away guiltily.

"Ha!" Santana exclaimed. She knew she should have been ashamed or embarrassed or even just worried. But the opportunity for something she'd fantasized about came up and she couldn't let it just slip through her fingers. She'd been brooding about this for a while, and now she had the opportunity to get at least get some physical gratification. Opportunity knocks, but it doesn't beg.

"I can't handle this," Rachel muttered. "I'm going to Brody's."

She turned around and made a beeline for the front door.

"Oh, hell no," Santana said, getting out of bed and following after her.

"Who's Brody?" Quinn asked, as she followed after.

"Some inconsequential douche," Santana said. "She met him a few months ago and they hang out sometimes. He's got the eye for her, but she thinks he's gay and pulling a Kurt by pretending to like her as a masquerade for gay."

"He doesn't have the eye for me and he _is_ gay! Rachel yelled as she put her coat back on. She put her hand on the door and managed to get it open just a crack before Santana caught up to her, still naked, and slammed the door shut again. She leaned against the door with one hand , putting her weight onto it.

"Move!" Rachel demanded, trying to get the door open, and grimacing in frustration when she realized that Santana was simply stronger than her.

"No," Santana said. "Just sit down and stop acting like we cheated on you."

"I don't want to be here!"

"Rachel," Quinn said softly, "why are you so upset?"

Rachel's jaw clenched and Santana inappropriately found that hot. The sight of Rachel so angry was in fact, very hot, but Santana cursed her libido for never quelling. Even at the height of her deepest depressions, she still found herself getting horny at inappropriate times. She had an inappropriate association with that green bathroom cleaner that Rachel favored because Rachel tended to clean the bathroom clad only in shorts and a sports bra, and seeing Rachel on her tip toes straining to clean some of the out-of-reach places was pretty hot. The Anthropologie catalogue could also get her hot and bothered at inopportune times.

"I don't know," Rachel said weakly, her shoulders slumping. She looked ready to burst into tears. "It's just…seeing you two together like that…" she sniffled. "I felt left out."

"You can join us if you want," Santana leered.

Rachel and Quinn glared at her and simultaneously smacked her; Rachel on the arm and Quinn on the ass.

It was like Rachel just realized both Quinn and Santana were naked because suddenly she couldn't stop staring at either of them.

It made Quinn self-conscious. Her eyes lowered to the floor and she used one arm to cover her breasts and the other arm to shield below the waist.

Santana had no such qualms of her nudity, but the sight of Quinn's bashfulness was endearing and made her smile. She wrapped an arm around Quinn's waist.

"Don't do that, you're hot, Q. You should always be naked," Santana said sincerely.

Quinn still couldn't look up from the floor, but she smiled slowly.

"I guess I'll leave you two alone," Rachel said frostily. She went for the door again, but Santana grabbed her hand.

"I don't want you to go," Santana said quietly. "And I know Quinn doesn't want you to go."

Quinn made a small, incoherent noise of agreement.

"And what am I supposed to do while you and Quinn…engage in your bedroom gymnastics? Scrub the toilet?"

"We don't want you to go," Santana repeated softly, gently shoving Rachel against the front door, so her back lightly thumped against it. She pressed forward, her breasts pushing into Rachel's. Even over the layers of clothing, she could feel it, and she knew Rachel could, too, given how her eyes widened ever so slightly and her breathing became just a little louder and shallower.

Rachel whimpered. "I don't….this is…what's…what's…"

"It's college, boo. Roll with it," Santana said softly, leaning in and pressing her lips against Rachel's.

Rachel, Santana and Quinn moaned simultaneously.

Soft. That was the first thought Santana had. Rachel's lips were like perfectly soft little pillows.

Santana wasn't sure what it said about her that the noises girls made when she kissed them turned her on this much. But it did. It really, really did.

Rachel liked it-- Santana could tell and she clenched her hands into Rachel's hair, pulling on it as she and Rachel kissed. She broke the kiss, leaving Rachel blushing fiercely. She turned Rachel around, wrapped her arms around Rachel's belly, and hugged her from behind. "Kiss her," she whispered. She kissed Rachel's neck and gave it a slow lick, drawing out a low moan from the girl before she gently pushed Rachel toward Quinn.

Rachel stumbled forward, but Quinn reached out to steady her. Rachel bent her head, eyes gazing at the floor, but Quinn gave her a small, comforting smile.

Tentatively, Quinn pulled Rachel forward by the lapels of her coat. They stared at one another before Rachel timidly stood on her tiptoes and pecked Quinn's lips. She stood flat on her feet again and gazed up at Quinn. She bit her lip shyly and then averted her eyes, looking down.

Quinn's mouth quirked into a slow, rueful smile. She bent down to kiss Rachel again, her hand cupping the back of Rachel's neck.

The distance between them closed and Santana watched as their bodies crashed together. Santana felt triumphant, it was _exactly_ like live porn.

Santana felt a little lonely and left out, which was sort of ridiculous, considering her pushing them to kiss was the impetus for all this. But she'd needed a lot of attention ever since Brittany unceremoniously dumped her. She approached them and began taking off Rachel's coat, which Rachel allowed her to do by sticking her arms out to the sides like a snowman. Reaching around to Rachel's front she began unbuttoning Rachel's shirt as well, and shucked it off. She moved onto Rachel's skirt and tights, intent on undressing her fully. She got down on her knees and began to pull.

Rachel broke the kiss with Quinn and turned around to face Santana, pupils huge and breathing hard. "You can't film this," she told Santana.

Santana made a 'what the fuck face.' "What the fuck, Berry? Do you think I've got cameras up in here?" Sh

"No, but I would not put it past you to film this."

"I'd ask first," Santana said, a little insulted.

"Oh, I know," Rachel said. "I am telling you this preemptively. I just know you are likely to ask later on and I'll likely be in a mindset in which I would be unable to refuse. But I would certainly regret it."

Santana laughed."All right, boo. Cross my heart and hope to die, I won't film this." She yanked hard on Rachel's tights and skirt, pulling them all the way down.

Rachel smiled and stepped out of her tights and skirt which were now around her ankles. She took off her bra-- the one article of clothing Santana had yet to divest her of. Rachel was terrified, but she wanted this. Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest and she wanted to run, but at the same time, she'd thought about this on more than one occasion, on more than one night. She wanted this and even if she thought she should put her clothes back on and run, her urge to stay outran her urge to leave.

Santana stared-- she'd seen Rachel in a bra before, but never her bare breasts. Jesus, did Rachel visit a tanning booth or something? She had no tan lines and her entire body was gloriously sun-kissed. She watched Quinn drift over, slipping behind Rachel and wrapping an arm around the brunette's middle. Quinn absently stroked Rachel's stomach and Santana kept hoping Quinn's hands would drift a little lower.

"Let's go to the bedroom," Santana breathed

Rachel's mouth curved. "How unexpectedly vanilla, boo."

Santana grinned. "It's convenient, boo."

Rachel smiled. "Okay, but my bed. Not yours. For obvious reasons."

"Deal."

When Santana would think about this years after the fact, and her mind did indeed, return to this time frequently, she wondered how the _hell_ the three of them managed to fuck so well and so frequently in a twin-sized bed.

Once they got to the bed, it was like Rachel lost her nerve.

"I've never…I've never done t-th-this before," Rachel stammered. "Not with a girl," she whispered, eyes lowering, "let alone with two simultaneously. This seems daunting," she admitted shyly.

"It's not about that," Quinn said tenderly, caressing Rachel's cheek. "This is about you, me and San. It's okay, Rach. I was scared, too." She paused and smiled self-deprecatingly. "Terrified, actually."

Rachel gave her a small smile in return.

"It's okay, Rach," Quinn promised. "We don't have to, if you don't want to."

"I--I--I want to, but--"

"Close your eyes," Quinn murmured.

Rachel bit her lower lip, and hesitated for a moment before she complied.

Quinn and Santana's eyes met for a moment-- Quinn was on the left of Rachel while Santana was to Rachel's right. Quinn licked Rachel's lower lip before fully kissing her while Santana began kissing Rachel's neck.

Rachel let out a strangled groan, one hand clenching into Quinn's hair while the other hand clenched into Santana's.

"Wait, wait," Rachel gasped. "I just…I need a minute."

Quinn and Santana stopped immediately, and gazed worriedly down at Rachel.

Rachel took a few deep breaths. "This is just so confusing," she whispered.

"We can stop, boo," Santana murmured.

"I think that's a bit extreme. I never said we should be hasty."

Quinn laughed gently. "It's okay, Rach."

Rachel swallowed visibly. "I want this," she said firmly. "I want this," she repeated emphatically.

She kissed Santana first, tentatively at first, but then becoming desperate and insistent, before switching to Quinn, kissing with equal fervor. While Quinn and Rachel kissed, Santana kissed down Rachel's body and then nudged Rachel's legs apart. Quinn and Rachel continued to kiss while Santana took her first taste of Rachel-- she moaned at the sweet tang and eagerly took another lick. Rachel whimpered into Quinn's mouth at the first touch of Santana's tongue licking her pussy. This was so much better than Rachel dreamt it would be.

It didn't take long for Rachel to come in Santana's mouth, or for Rachel to cry out into Quinn's.

Rachel was still panting and gasping, her body trembling, when Santana and Quinn exchanged a long kiss before they wordlessly traded positions-- Santana clambering up to kiss Rachel's lips and Quinn moving downward for her own taste. While Quinn focused her attention between Rachel's legs, Santana moved her attention equally between Rachel's lips and her breasts. She realized she could almost fit one of Rachel's breasts in her mouth. She fucking loved that.

\--

Santana had to admire Rachel's stamina because it was _seconds_ after Quinn made her come hard with a keening moan that Rachel was giggling impishly and pushing Quinn onto her back.

"You've had more time," Rachel told Santana. "I want to do this first," she said. "You've had more, so it's only fair. Equality is very important and you can't tell me otherwise."

Santana rolled her eyes at Rachel's bossy tone. "Oh, shut up, you brat," she said, smacking Rachel on the ass, but she grinned when Rachel kissed her. She liked the sound that her hand made striking against Rachel's bare ass, so she smacked the other cheek. Rachel chuckled and Santana filed that away-- they'd have to explore that later.

Quinn looked up at them, wide-eyed.

Rachel smiled down sweetly at Quinn and touched the back of her hand to Quinn's cheek. "You are my best friend, you know," she said softly. "I love you." She swallowed hard. "Both of you," she whispered. "You're both my best friends and I don't know how I'd survive in this world without you. I love _both_ of you so much. This has been really…unexpected," Rachel laughed quietly. "But I want this. I need both of you to know that. I want this." She smiled down at Quinn, the smile widening when she saw Quinn smile. "I want you," she whispered. "It's…it's okay if I do this, right?" she asked, looking suddenly uncertain and particularly vulnerable.

Quinn nodded silently, emphatically.

Santana kissed Quinn while Rachel rested at Quinn's knees. She spread Quinn's legs apart and then hesitantly touched Quinn between her legs. Her eyes went wide when Quinn's hips bucked and Quinn released a slow groan. Quinn head lolled back and her eyes fluttered shut. Santana got even wetter at the sight.

"I…I don't know what I'm doing," Rachel said, her earlier bravado and bossiness gone.

"It feels good," Quinn moaned. " Just…" she trailed off. She was new at this, there was no way she could direct.

Rachel swallowed hard and her hand began to move between Quinn's legs. She whimpered when she felt how wet Quinn was, and when she realized the direct correlation between Quinn's pleading moans and the movements of her hand at the juncture of Quinn's thighs. One hand stroked between Quinn's legs while the other hand massaged Quinn's breasts. When Quinn's hips began to buck off the bed, and her moans became more desperate, Santana broke the kiss with Quinn. Santana smiled at Rachel and then brought her hand to the back of Rachel's head and began gently pushing down. Rachel got the message and lowered her head between Quinn's legs.

She hesitated.

"Just think about what you'd want her to do to you," Santana murmured, breaking the kiss momentarily before she resumed sucking on Quinn's lower lip.

Rachel shut her eyes and thought about what she'd want, and began to slowly lick at Quinn's pussy. This was something she wanted to savor.

It occurred to Rachel at that moment that she was at least a little gay. More than a little, actually. She'd always been a little boy-crazy-- she found men physically attractive and even though she'd only had one other sexual partner prior to this, she enjoyed sex. Maybe Quinn and Santana were just better at sex than Finn was, but she realized she found _this_ more enjoyable than her experiences with Finn.

She never really liked giving Finn a blowjob-- he usually had to guilt her into it. But she actually _wanted_ to eat Quinn out, and she was in desperate anticipation for her chance with Santana.

She found that Quinn tasted better than Finn-- and she was certain, even without proof (yet) that Santana did, too.

She licked, sucked, nibbled, nipped at Quinn, rejoicing in every sound that the blonde made. When Quinn began making desperate noises muffled by Santana's mouth covering hers, Rachel did the only thing she could think to do. She began sucking on Quinn's clit. Quinn humped her face in desperate, frenzied thrusts, that prompted Rachel to take some pity. She gave Quinn's clit a particularly long, hard suck until the blonde came with a cry that was swallowed by Santana's kiss.

"Wow," Rachel breathed as she stared at Quinn who still had her eyes closed and trying to catch her breath. That was one of the hottest sights she'd ever seen-- Quinn was covered in sweat, her hair messy and some strands clinging to her face. Her bare breasts heaved with every breath. It was absolutely pornographic and without even thinking about it, Rachel reached out to tweak one of Quinn's nipples. Quinn squeaked and swatted at Rachel's hand. Rachel blushed fiercely, feeling like a chastised prepubescent boy.

Santana laughed warmly at the both of them. "Titty fucker," she admonished Rachel gently.

Rachel gazed down at her and put her hand on Quinn's hip, and sucked in a deep breath when she saw the way the blonde trembled in response.

Quinn's body still hummed, any little touch would set her off again.

Rachel gazed at Santana and her hand came up to tenderly cup the side of Santana's neck. "Instigator," she teased gently before she leaned in for a kiss. Santana pushed her tongue into Rachel's mouth--God, Rachel was a good kisser.

Quinn stared at the two kissing and released a low moan, which caught Rachel's attention. She pulled away from Santana and smiled down at Quinn before she leaned down to kiss her.

Quinn broke the kiss first, out of breath.

"Rach…"

Rachel smiled tenderly. "I'm going to kiss you again, Quinn."

Quinn laughed lowly. "Okay. If that's what you want."

"It is," Rachel confirmed.

"And I'm going to go down on you again, Q," Santana added.

Quinn laughed. "Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?"

"'Eat me raw, bitch'?"

"Funny how life works out," Quinn said.

Santana rolled her eyes and playfully swiped her thumb across Quinn's clit, grinning when a strangled cry choked out of Quinn's throat. "Still so smug, cap'n?"

"Shut up," Quinn breathed. "You raging, inconsiderate bitch."

Rachel just gazed for a long moment at Quinn's face before she was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss Quinn senseless. She thought again about what would feel good for her and she also began to play with Quinn's breasts as she continued to kiss her.

Quinn let out a tiny happy squeal and followed by a low moan, but Rachel continued to kiss her, drawing more moans from Quinn as she began to suck on Quinn's tongue. Rachel was on a mission.

Quinn pulled away, panting. "Oh my God," she breathed, drawing in deep breaths. She shut her eyes and draped one hand over them. She laughed-- a low rumbling from deep within her belly. "Mm," she moaned, a wide, pleased smile forming that practically threatened to break her face. Quinn groped for Santana's hand and pulled her up. "Come here," Quinn whispered, kissing her and tasting herself on Santana's lips.

\--

Santana had come to realize that she was definitely _not_ some pillow princess. When she was still having sex with boys in an effort to delude herself into believing she was only experimenting or bored or even just bicurious, she thought it was simply about the power of giving as opposed to receiving. It was a turn-on to have that kind of power, to know that she was driving the other person to crazed desperation. But when she started having sex with Brittany, she enjoyed making Brittany happy because she loved her. It wasn't about power-- or at least, it was rarely about power. Most of the time, it truly was about making Brittany feel good. With Quinn she'd learned that she really did prefer giving as opposed to receiving. And now that pattern had been proven with Rachel.

But she had to admit that some of it was about power. Yeah, sex could just be sex without turning it into some big deal. Sometimes, a fuck was just a fuck.

But this was Rachel and Quinn. And even though Santana had fantasized about this on numerous occasions (it was a frequent wet dream in high school that always made her feel guilty, like she was cheating on Brittany) but now that it was really happening, she felt so vulnerable. These were her best friends, but Santana was suddenly intimidated.

"Okay," Santana breathed. "Let's um, let's get something to eat."

She was so turned on right now that she was basically a puddle. She was covered in sweat and come and she really just needs to get _off_ right now, but she suddenly had this, fear that if she let Quinn _and_ Rachel see her like that, she'd just be a _goner_.

When she wanted to get over Brittany, this wasn't quite what she had in mind. Sex could just be sex _or_ she could fall madly in love with her best friend(s) (again) and Jesus, she just wasn't ready to love someone again. She just wanted something fun and now it has this potential to be so _complicated_ . It was complicated enough when it was just Quinn, but now adding Rachel to the mix, _everything_ was coming to a head (literally). And to complicate matters, she and Rachel lived together.

Santana started to scramble out of the bed, intent on rubbing one out in the bathroom while Quinn and Rachel, like, made her dinner or something. Because, fuck, even if she seemed to be the one suddenly freaking out about this, she was also the most experienced one which made her the alpha which meant the two of them were going to make her dinner, not the other way around. And not any of that vegan crap Rachel favored, either. Santana just went shopping the other day and had steak in the fridge.

She just needed a minute alone.

"Hold on," Quinn said softly. She grabbed Santana into a loose hug-- their skin sticking together. Quinn began to kiss Santana's neck, sucking on it. She started to rub Santana's breasts. "Don't you want us, baby?" she sang softly to the tune of Human League. Quinn was completely unnerved Santana seemed to be freaking out. The only reason why she hadn't freaked out before this was because Santana kept her centered. If Santana lost it, Quinn knew she would lose it, too. She was already struggling with it, and she knew this whole thing was strange, but it felt so right. If Santana ran away from this, Quinn was certain she would fall apart. She couldn't let Santana run because she'd have to face all the things that was making her freak out on her own and she didn't think she could do that.

Santana swallowed hard. "I--" She sucked in a deep breath.

"Sometimes you just have to surrender, boo," Rachel murmured. She needed Santana to keep it together if she was going to keep it together.

Santana wanted to laugh. It was like the midget was a mindreader. Maybe she really was psychic. Santana thought it was fitting and was tempted to call Rachel a 'witch,' but there would be time for that later.

Santana breathed in shakily. "Okay."

Rachel smiled slowly, impishly and pushed Santana down by the shoulders so that Santana was practically laying on top of Quinn, resting against her. Santana felt Quinn's breasts press into her back before Quinn began sucking on Santana's neck and toying with Santana's breasts. Rachel sat on the bed on her hands and knees, practically kowtowing, and buried her face into Santana's cunt.

Santana gasped, her legs draping over Rachel's back. Her ankles crossed and the heels of her feet dug into Rachel's spine. Santana bit her lip and shut her eyes as Rachel ate her out.

With everything that happened, it didn't take long and she was a little embarrassed when she came all over Rachel's face. Rachel chuckled and wiped at her mouth, chin and cheeks. Shit, even her forehead.

"I'm so sorry," Santana said, groaning that she'd squirted on Rachel's face in like, seconds. "God, you'd think I was Finn 'Two Second Man' Hudson."

Rachel frowned disapprovingly. "Please don't bring him up right now."

Santana grinned. "Gave you a flashback, huh?"

Rachel and Quinn smacked her simultaneously-- Rachel on the Santana's belly and Quinn on Santana's shoulder.

Quinn nuzzled Santana's cheek. "Why don't we show Rachel how much stamina you _actually_ have."

Santana laughed because while that sounded like a lot of fun, she was actually a little sore and tired.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I need a break."

Quinn chuckled.

"Hey! We were having sex all morning and half the afternoon before all this happened."

Quinn laughed. "Does Sanny need a break?" she teased.

"Snix needs a snack," Santana shot back.

"I'll get you a granola bar!" Rachel volunteered. Still naked, she gracefully leaped off the bed in what basically amounted to a jete and practically bounced out of the room, leaving Quinn and Santana to stare at Rachel's naked retreating butt.

"Fetch me a Diet Coke with ice, too, bitch!" Santana shouted.

"I'm not your slave, Santana Lopez!"

"Please?"

"Okay! Since you asked so politely! I would be happy to accommodate your request!" Rachel yelled back.

"Hey, you okay?" Quinn asked, peering closely at Santana. "You got kind of…you know…" she trailed off, fumbling for the right word, and decided to shrug instead. " Um, you know, on me for a little bit."

Santana understood what she meant and smiled reassuringly. "It was just a lot. But I'm all good."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Santana said softly.

"Don't freak out on me," Quinn begged. "If you freak out, I'll freak out."

"I won't," Santana assured softly. She'd freak out internally, but she'd keep herself from showing it. She didn't want Quinn to have some gay panic moment-- it was brewing and if Santana let it reach a boiling point, it could get really bad. She loved Quinn way too much to allow that to happen. She grinned. "Hey, can you believe the mouth on that one? I had no idea. She can say whatever the fuck she wants with a mouth like that."

"San," Quinn chided, but mostly on principle, because once she experienced what Rachel could do with that mouth, she basically agreed. She was still too much of a prude to voice that though, even if she wasn't too much of a prude to do it.

"Well?!"

Quinn giggled and burrowed into Santana. "I know."

They put their heads together and giggled.

Rachel came back into the bedroom, carrying a tray with a few granola bars, some crackers and a glass of Diet Coke.

"I thought you might be hungry, too, Quinn," she said with a smile. She set the tray on her bed and climbed back in. Santana reached for the glass of Diet Coke and took a long gulp before passing it to Quinn who took a few sips and then passed it to Rachel.

Rachel shook her head. "I had a glass of water-- hydration," she said with a grin.

Quinn laughed and set the glass on the tray and took a granola bar while Santana and Rachel did the same.When Rachel came home that afternoon, she had no idea that she would end up butt naked on her bed with Santana and Quinn eating granola bars and passing a single glass of Diet Coke around between the three of them. But it was preferable to any other option. She knew one of her infamous freakouts was impending-- it would likely become kinetic when she finished processing all of this. But for the moment, she was happy exactly where she was at. There was a price to pay for acting first and thinking about it later, but Rachel thought she was willing to pay it.


	5. Chapter 5

 

**Year: 2019**

Rachel felt the back of her head-- there was a portion there that the doctors had to shave to operate, but it was mostly covered by the rest of her hair. It'd grown back pretty quickly-- Quinn told her that her hair had always grown pretty fast, but it felt different from the rest of her head and the hairs there were obviously shorter than the hair on the rest of her head. She was glad they didn't have to shave her head completely-- not so much out of vanity, but because she suspected the sight would have been pretty alarming for the children.

She was so tired of not knowing basic facts about herself. It made her feel so feeble that she had to ask other people things she should know about herself. She was coping with the fact that she was physically dependent on other people-- she was assured that provided she followed through with her physical therapy regiment, she would be restored to her prior functioning. And she was seeing improvement which bolstered both her confidence and her spirits. Her gross motor skills had been intact, but her fine motor skills had been impaired by the damage to her brain and body. But she was seeing improvement in that aspect, too, with basic things like braiding her daughters' hair. In the beginning, the girls would beg her to French braid their hair and she wanted to cry when she realized her fingers just wouldn't _obey_ even if her brain knew how to do it. She had to leave tasks like bathing the children to Quinn and Mike because her fumbling was a safety risk when bathing children so young. She had a hard time cooking-- she couldn't chop vegetables or peel fruit. Now she could do those things-- still with difficulty, but she could see the improvement.

But her own history, her own identity, was still a mystery to her.

She knew Quinn was her girlfriend-- they were unmarried, but they had three children together, so they were married in every way that mattered except on paper. Mike was the father of all three of them, and she readily admitted that she found him physically attractive, so she could easily see why both she and Quinn had been with him, apparently at the same time. She found that it oddly made sense to her that they'd once been a trio and she was curious about why they weren't anymore, but she was waiting for the right time to ask. She thought it could be a sensitive topic, and both Mike and Quinn were on edge, likely because they both had to take care of her on top of taking care of the children. Rachel could see that she was lucky, because Mike was sweet and patient, while Quinn was kind and patient, and Rachel really needed people to be those things to her right now. She found Quinn beautiful and was attracted to her, but so far, they were still strangers to one another. Quinn seemed like she was letting her dictate their relationship and Rachel was just too afraid to let things progress.

Abby was their oldest, at age 5. Rachel knew that since she was 24, she must have been 19 when Abby was born and she had to ask exactly what the circumstances of Abby's conception and birth were. When she looked at it from a rational/logical viewpoint, it defied reason why she would have kept the pregnancy rather than terminating it. After all, she was in college at the time and the pregnancy must have sidelined her at school, even if Abby had been born in the early part of August during her summer break at NYADA. Having a child could have potentially derailed her entire career, and even though it hadn't, but it's not like she would have known that at the time.

She had no regrets, of course. Abby was gorgeous and sweet, and Rachel loved her-- _chose_ to love her. Maternal instincts weren't necessarily innate. She had to be told that Abby was her daughter-- there was no moment of intrinsic recognition even though she'd carried Abby in her body. And though she hated to admit it, she did not feel an immediate love for any of her children just because she was told they were her children. Her love for them _developed_.

When she asked "why?" as in why-would-she-keep-an-inopportune-obviously-unplanned-pregnancy, she wasn't asking because she had any regrets-- she was simply curious. She wanted to better understand who she'd been and why her life was the way it was. She was 24 years old, a Broadway actress with a decent body of work behind her, the mother to three very young children, the girlfriend to a beautiful television actress and the daughter of two gay fathers. She had a strong support system-- the father of all three of her children gave up his life in Los Angeles without a second thought to temporarily move across the country to be supportive with almost no regard for the repercussions to his own life. She had friends who were willing to put their own lives secondary to focus on her. Her children were sweet and well-mannered. They seemed like they worshipped her. She had a girlfriend who looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, when Rachel knew that she actually still looked pretty unwell and sickly. She wanted to know who the hell she was to have all that, to _deserve_ it.

She never meant for it to come across as wishing she'd had an abortion. But she saw the looks of horror that Quinn, Mike and weirdly, Santana, exchanged and she never brought it up again. She just wanted to know how Abby was conceived-- even if it was just some drunken night. She thought she was entitled, but she already felt so alien, she just didn't want to be looked at like she actually was some Martian by the people she was supposed to trust most.

She had to write down basic facts about herself or else she'd forget. Some things were pretty obvious-- Abby was clearly her daughter-- even with her Eurasian features, Abby looked just like her. Ben was Quinn's biological son with Mike while Sarah was her biological daughter with Mike, but Ben and Sarah were born a week apart.

Rachel was confused and scared all the time, but she just could not allow herself to show it. She tried to pretend like it was no big deal, as though people routinely lost their memories and couldn't remember that they were allergic to pine nuts and thus almost caused their girlfriends to nearly have a heart attack when they ordered pesto in a restaurant

Apparently, she was just supposed to accept everything people told her at face value, but she knew people lied. She just wanted to know who she could trust. She did trust Quinn, Mike, Santana and Brittany, but at the same time, she also wondered if there were things they were hiding from her. She trusted her fathers, too, but she was sensing that she had been estranged from them before the accident, or at least had a strained relationship. They were loving, and told her stories about her childhood which made her feel better and gave her an understanding of her upbringing. But they didn't seem to know a lot about her life in more recent times.

She looked through old photo albums with the voracious appetite of a bulimic right before a major purge. The greatest and dearest hope was that some photo would trigger a series of memories, like dominoes collapsing into one another, except instead of a laboriously constructed project being destroyed, she would be put back together.

But it wasn't like that at all-- those old photographs did not spark anything familiar in her. Her high school photographs made her wince--she looked like a grandma playing dress-up in toddler clothes and frequently vice versa. Her college photographs were a little better-- she looked really happy, except for some photographs during the early stages of her pregnancy with Abby. She looked happy and always surrounded with friends. Then came pictures with cast members from the shows she participated in after her graduation from NYADA.

She'd traveled-- domestically (Los Angeles, Yellowstone, Yosemite, Grand Canyon-- clearly, it was for the kids, Seattle, Austin, Chicago, Maine) and internationally (China, Prague, London, Paris, Barcelona, Rome). There were pictures of her clearly making a fool of herself doing keg stands and singing at karaoke. There was a plethora of pictures of her with the children where they all looked so full of joy that Rachel was so goddamn apologetic for not being the mother they wanted, the one they remembered. There was clear, unequivocal photographic proof of her warm relationships with the closest people in her life-- Quinn, Mike, Santana, Brittany, her fathers.

Looking at the pictures, she had no doubt in her mind that her former self had lived; really, really lived. Maybe she was idealizing the person she'd once been, but it seemed to her the Rachel Berry captured in those photographs, would have very few regrets.

But she was different-- she couldn't remember any of it. And now she was 24, and she had the pressure of everyone in her life looking at her wanting her to be someone else. She was a 24 year old actress in a long-term relationship with a girl she couldn't remember, three kids she couldn't remember in a career she wasn't sure she wanted anymore, and she felt her feet actually _itch_ to get the hell out. She wanted to run and sometimes, she thought about how she could possibly do it, even while she tucked her children into bed and sang them a lullaby, harmonizing with Quinn because apparently, that was the way it'd been for a long, long time.

She wanted to run, but she was forcing herself to stay, because this was her life, and apparently this was the life she wanted, the life she worked for. And she would be damned to give it up, just because she couldn't remember. She, Quinn and the kids were all in therapy, and she was still too afraid to tell her therapist about her temptations to run-- she knew how that would sound and how it would definitely deserve judgment. She was building up the nerve to talk about it because she was certain the Rachel Berry she'd once been would have fought for what she wanted and Rachel wanted to be herself again.

\--

Three months after she woke up from her coma, she finally felt ready to take on the kids on her own on an extended outing. She'd been afraid to take them out for an extended period of time on her own and first built her courage by being alone with them at home and for short periods of time out of the home. She had enough energy that she could handle all three on her own and her fine motor skills were _almost_ back to par. She was finally confident enough to take them out into the world for more than a couple of hours.

She picked Abby up from kindergarten one afternoon with Ben and Sarah in tow in the double stroller and cheerfully told her kids that no, they weren't going home, per usual, they were going to have a little outing. She thought the kids would be excited, but instead, her heart sank a little when Abby tried to take over pushing the stroller because "otherwise, you'll get tired, Mama, and then you'll have to go back to the hospital".

Her daughter was _five_ years old, for God's sake, and this was the sort of thing she thought about.

"Thank you, baby, for being such a wonderful helper!" Rachel exclaimed brightly. "But I can do it!"

Abby bit her lip worriedly. "But Mama--"

Rachel forced herself to smile widely even though she wanted to cry. She bent down at the waist, trying not to wince even though she felt a twinge of pain in her back at the motion. She'd have lifelong back problems, but she really couldn't complain. Back problems were better than being dead. "Baby, I promise you that if I get tired, I will ask you to push the stroller, okay? Because you are my best helper in the world."

Abby gave her a tiny smile. "Mommy is your best helper."

Rachel shook her head. "Heck, no," she said brightly. "You're my best helper. Mommy snore."

Abby gave her a small smile. "She sounds like Foghorn Leghorn," she giggled.

Rachel burst into genuine laughter, because well, not really. Quinn's snoring wasn't loud--- it was actually pretty cute as far as snoring went. The Foghorn Leghorn thing must be some sort of inside joke. Likely it was something her former self used to say.

Rachel tickled Abby's belly. "So I'm Henery Hawk?"

Abby laughed, delightedly. "Mama, you remembered!"

Rachel tried not to let her smile slip, because no, she remembered nothing. But she knew enough about Foghorn Leghorn as a cultural reference to make an educated guess. She decided it was best to redirect her daughter. "We're going to get some cupcakes, what kind of cupcake do you want, baby?" she asked conversationally.

She'd Yelped establishments in proximity to the apartment and apparently there was a cute little bakery/tea house nearby called the Queen's Bakery. It was far enough away that she and Abby could get a little exercise, but not so far away that the walk to-and-back would tire anyone out. Ben and Sarah could probably comfortably walk it, too. She wasn't quite ready to take the kids on public transportation yet-- that seemed really daunting because she had this fear one of the kids would run onto a train ahead of her before she caught up and she'd become separated from them. It was a very specific fear, and actually kind of unlikely because all of the children were good listeners, who would stop if she told them to, but it was one she experienced nonetheless.

"We're getting cupcakes?!"

"Yep!"

"Vanilla! With sparkles."

Vanilla was Abby's favorite flavor and she apparently called sprinkles "sparkles." She had a variety of verbal quirks, that Rachel found endearing, like the way Abby called hair ties, 'hair pretties.'

When they got to the bakery, she and Abby were a little out of breath, but the walk was pretty invigorating. She stood in line with the kids to order four cupcakes, three hot chocolates and an earl grey latte for herself. The kids didn't get a lot of sugar, so the cupcakes and hot chocolate would be treats. They didn't eat much either, so they'd be unlikely to finish everything anyway. In truth, she probably could have ordered one cupcake and one hot chocolate for all three of them to share, but if she'd made them share, there likely would have been hell to pay. She took the number the cashier gave her and turned around to find a table to wait for the cupcakes and beverages. Rachel held Abby's hand in one hand and pushed the stroller with the other.

She smiled politely at the woman standing behind her, and started to move past the woman when the other woman grabbed her by the arm.

"Rachel."

Startled, Rachel pulled her arm away. This was the thing about memory loss-- people knew her, but she didn't know them. She was also an actress, and even if she wasn't quite well-known yet (although she understood that she'd been on the cusp of a real breakout before the accident), so she was even more recognizable than the average person. She was mortified when she instinctively looked down at the kids to see if they recognized the other woman, but they showed no recognition either.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Rachel stammered. "Do we know one another?"

The next person in line, clearly exasperated by the delay, pushed past them to order. No one paid attention.

Shelby Corcoran stared at her daughter and the three small children with her. She felt this instinct to feed her daughter who looked almost gaunt. She was pale and frail-looking, as though she'd been sick for a long time. Rachel looked like a small gust of wind would break her. She hadn't seen or talked to Rachel since Rachel was a senior in high school and over the years, she'd thought about what it would be like to see her daughter again. She'd always thought if she saw her daughter again, Rachel would look _healthy_.

"Rachel, I know we aren't on the best terms, but for you to act as if you don't even know me--"

"Mama was in an accident," Abby piped up, tucking her hand into the pocket of Rachel's jeans and clinging to her protectively. "Mama can't remember anything." She looked sadly up as she stated, "she couldn't even remember me," she added softly.

Shelby was absolutely horrified. It made sense now that she took in Rachel's appearance. Her daughter must have been terribly hurt. She'd always thought that if something truly significant happened in Rachel's life she would have known about it. She supposed it was fair-- she'd cut Quinn out of Beth's life, so of course, she'd been completely cut out of Rachel's and her grandchildren's. Although there'd been a long going on when she made the difficult choice to cut Quinn out, so she felt it was justified. Still, she was apparently a grandmother, three times over and it hurt that today was the first day she realized this.

"I…I need to sit down for a minute," Shelby muttered, staggering a few steps back. She walked unsteadily toward an empty table and then sat down.

Rachel stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do. She felt the need to leave right away even though she'd just ordered. Fortuitously, the cashier set the packaged cupcakes on the counter. Rachel picked them up and set the box on the roof of the stroller.

"Baby, let's go, okay?"

"But what about our hot chocolate?" Abby asked quietly.

"I'll make you guys some when we get home," Rachel said. God, she hoped there was some hot chocolate mix or at least raw cocoa so that she could make some.

She'd had this day planned out-- they'd hang out at the bakery for a while, go for a walk in the park, play for a while, go to the bookstore a few blocks from their apartment and then pick up some dinner before heading home. She didn't necessarily have the energy to take them to a museum or to the zoo or something, but this sedate little outing? She thought she could do it, and here she was, ruining it.

"Okay, Mommy," Abby said quietly.

Abby addressed her and Quinn as Mommy and Mama interchangeably, but she did tend to address her as Mama and Quinn as Mommy. Rachel wondered if this meant anything.

As they were leaving, Shelby stopped them.

"Wait, Rachel, please," she said weakly. "Please don't go. Sit down and talk to me for a little while."

Rachel hesitated. Even if this woman knew her, she didn't know this woman. Her gut was telling her to run. She thought she could just ask Quinn about this later, so she gazed at the woman for a moment, trying to memorize her face so she could tell Quinn. "Wow," she breathed, when she realized she and the woman had a strong resemblance.

She determined she was just going to leave and talk to Quinn-- after all, if this woman knew her, it was likely Quinn knew her too, since they'd practically grown up together. And if she told Quinn, "she looked like me," and then emphasized "no, she _really_ looked like me" then Quinn would inevitably tell her that not-that-tall, brown hair, slightly larger than average nose, described a lot of people. But something made her stay, and she hesitantly sat down, sitting Abby into a chair and then bringing Ben and Sarah into her lap. She worried about them-- it was like they picked up on the stress and trauma over the past few months because they had significant periods of time where they got very quiet which apparently was unusual for them.

Once she got them into her lap, they started chattering, which made her happy. Sometimes, she felt like there was no denying that she was their mother because the sound of their happiness inspired such joy in her.

"Hi, lady!" they greeted.

Shelby couldn't help but smile. "I didn't know you were a mom, Rachel," she said softly. She realized how fully she'd been cut out of Rachel's life

Rachel bit her lip. "Could…could you tell me your name, please?"

The woman hesitated which made Rachel suspicious.

But then she smiled and Rachel was disarmed.

Shelby made a choice. She knew she may be shooting herself in the ass, but if she came clean with who she was, it might scare Rachel off for good. "Amelia," Shelby lied, extending her hand. It wasn't such a huge lie. Amelia was her middle name. She just wanted a new start and she was certain Rachel would tell someone about running into her, and she didn't want someone else to tell Rachel about their history. Yes, it was selfish and manipulative and considering her daughter's fragile state, it was evil, too. But her lack of relationship with her daughter was one of her deepest regrets and if she could fix it without someone blocking her before she even started, then maybe she could end up having her daughter for real.

Rachel took her hand and shook it. "Well, Amelia. How do we know each other?"

Again, hesitation. It wasn't as though Shelby was prepared to lie about this. She needed to fabricate so much more than just her name.

"I knew your fathers," she answered finally. "I haven't seen you since you were in high school."

At least that much was true.

Rachel brightened. Her girlfriend and their friends were evasive about their high school years, but she knew that she'd gone to high school with all of her closest friends. She knew they weren't that close in high school, that their friendships strengthened in college. But they just seemed really avoidant when she asked about their histories in high school, and she wasn't sure why. Maybe this woman could fill in the blanks.

"What was I like in high school?" she asked eagerly.

Shelby hesitated. She really had no idea-- she never got to know her daughter and she'd always regretted it."I didn't meet you until you were a sophomore in high school. I was…away from Lima for a while, and when I got back, somehow, I just could never find the time to connect with you."

Rachel frowned, disappointed. "Oh."

"You were very driven-- that much I know," Shelby said, hoping to lift Rachel's spirits. "You had an amazing voice and so, so much talent. You were never afraid of hard work-- you were always willing to get up earlier and stay a little later to get work done. Very few people possess that kind of discipline and there were many people who were jealous of you."

Rachel gave her a small smile. "That sounded kind of generic," she said sadly. "I guess I'm kind of generic, because that's basically what my friends and my parents told me."

" _No!_ " Shelby said fiercely. "You were special. You _are_ special. It's simply that when one is so extraordinary, we have to resort to clichés for description."

 

Rachel swallowed hard and looked away. She opened the cupcake box, realizing that she wasn't feeding the kids their cupcakes. God, they were all so patient-- none of them had even asked if they could have one yet. Abby was counting the sugar packets and making designs with them, and Ben and Sarah were laughing at every design. She didn't know what she did in life to get so lucky.

She passed each of the children a cupcake, and they all dug in.

Shelby looked at them, feeling her heart tug. These were her grandchildren. The oldest looked just like Rachel, and Shelby acutely felt everything she'd missed out on.

"How old are they?" Shelby asked.

Rachel smiled and reached out to rub her hand on Abby's forehead. Abby turned to her and gave her a brief smile before taking a tiny bite of her cupcake.

"Abby is five," Rachel said. She kissed each of the toddlers in her lap. "Sarah and Ben are both two."

"Twins?" Shelby asked, perplexed. If they were, they were the most dissimilar twins she'd ever seen. While Sarah was small for two, with dark hair and dark eyes, Ben was tall for two, with blond hair and hazel eyes. Still, they seemed perfectly content just to talk to one another, part speech, part babble. They were fully entertained.

Rachel laughed softly. "Well, biologically, no. They were born a week apart. Sarah is biologically mine, and Ben is biologically my girlfriend's. But they’re all my kids. Biology doesn't really matter to me."

Shelby gave her a small smile. "I think that's wonderful."

Rachel beamed at her. "Do you have any children?"

"I have a daughter--Beth. She's older than your kids-- she's almost ten. She's at school right now."

Rachel smiled. "That's great."

Shelby swallowed hard as she thought about how Rachel genuinely couldn't remember her. Up until now, she'd hoped Rachel was lying about not remembering her. Like this whole thing was just an act. But when she lied about her name, when she mentioned Beth-- there was no flicker of recognition.

Nothing.

This was real.

"The accident," Shelby said thickly. "Were…were you badly hurt?" she asked. She wanted her answers any way she could.

Rachel was warm towards her-- guarded, but not defensive. She'd never had Rachel like this. Every time she'd ever spoke to Rachel, her daughter had always seemed so wary of her. Rachel still seemed wary, which was to be expected-- she was a stranger to Rachel. But Rachel always seemed so closed off, and now she seemed so open.

"I…I'm not sure how to answer that," Rachel admitted. "I was in a coma for several months."

"Three," Abby interrupted.

Rachel frowned unhappily for a moment-- she hated that her child knew that. But then she smiled and pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "Thank you, baby. You're my best helper."

Shelby's eyes prickled with tears. She quickly blinked to brush them away. She couldn't believe her daughter could have been so hurt and she didn't know. If she'd died, would anyone have told her?

Shelby swallowed hard. "And you don't remember anything?"

Rachel shook her head. "No," she admitted softly. She felt glum.

"You couldn't remember us, Mama," Abby piped in. She rubbed her face on Rachel's arm. "But you're still Mama, right, Mama?"

Rachel rubbed her nose against Abby's nose. "That's right, baby. You'll always be my baby, and I'll always be your mama."

Abby gave her a toothy smile and went back to her sugar packet sculpture. Rachel was amused that Abby only took a few bites of the cupcake before she was more fixated on making sugar packet sculptures.

The server brought over the earl grey latte and three hot chocolates.

"I'm sorry it took so long," she apologized.

Rachel smiled. "It's not a big deal. Thank you."

She took one of the hot chocolates and blew carefully onto it, letting it cool down a bit. She took a test sip to make sure it wasn't too hot before she passed it to Abby. Abby smiled and passed it to Ben. Rachel smiled proudly at her sweet daughter. She took the next cup and repeated the process, passing it again to Abby who once again passed it to her sibling. Rachel took the last hot chocolate and took special care to make sure it was cool enough for Abby to sip before she passed it to Abby.

"Thank you, baby, for being so patient and waiting," Rachel said. She leaned down so she could rub her nose on Abby's cheek-- she'd figured out pretty quickly that Abby seemed to love that. She smiled at Shelby. "Aren't you going to get anything? You did come in here for something, didn't you?"

Shelby breathed in shakily. She came in for a cup of coffee, but she really needed a stiff drink right now. "I…I'm good for now," she breathed. She had a headache. "What…what about your other injuries?"

Rachel looked contemplative. "Honestly? I don't recall. Quinn-- um, that's my girlfriend--"

"Quinn Fabray?" Shelby interrupted, startled.

Rachel visibly brightened. She felt even more at ease knowing this other woman knew Quinn. Heretofore, she had some doubts about the other woman, but knowing this woman knew Quinn made her feel safer. "Yes, do you know each other?"

Shelby swallowed hard, unwilling to go down that road quite yet. This was going to be harder than she thought. "I know her primarily because she was on your glee team."

Rachel nodded, seeming to accept this without pressing for more. "Quinn says I broke my back as well as several facial fractures. I also fractured several bones in my arm and leg. But I was in a coma for three months, so I did not have to bear the brunt of the recovery. I do physical therapy a few times a week, and I do think that physically, I am getting back to par."

"H--how is your career?"

Shelby found it too painful to keep tabs on Rachel. She Googled Rachel periodically after her daughter graduated from high school and she was happy that there was always some show her daughter was part of every time she did. But the older Beth got, the more Shelby was reminded how much she missed out on Rachel's life, and so it'd been more than a year since she Googled Rachel's name for information. She wished she had.

Rachel thought about it. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. "I researched my own work history and I have a fairly decent body of work behind me-- I'm proud of it. But I think Quinn and my friends are silver-lining things for me. I had a role in a show that was fairly successful before the accident, but obviously I had to step down. I'm not pursuing anything right now. I'm not quite up to par yet, but I do intend to get back to it. I'm just not sure how motivated I am now."

"I'm so proud of you," Shelby said quietly.

Her daughter was so resilient-- she just soldiered through everything that life threw at her, no matter how bad. Even with how frail Rachel looked, she seemed poised and composed. Shelby was just so proud. She knew that she had no part in it, but she was proud nonetheless.

Rachel gave her a small, but sincere smile. "Thank you," she said softly. "But there really is nothing to be proud of--what else am I to do?"

Shelby swallowed visibly. She felt such a swirl of emotions and they were all etched across her face.

Rachel felt a sharp twinge of alarm. The other woman was just so emotional and it was freaking Rachel out. She needed to leave. She needed to get her and her kids out of here. "Okay," Rachel said quietly. "I…I should…I should go," she said quietly. "I…I need…I'm sorry," Rachel said. "I just…I should get home."

"Please," Shelby said quickly. "Maybe I can buy you and the children dinner? I'll just need to pick up my daughter, but--"

"I promised my girlfriend that I'd bring home dinner," Rachel said quietly.

"Do you think we could meet again?" Shelby asked softly, unwilling to just let this go.

Rachel hesitated, biting her lip. "Okay," she said. She pulled out her cell phone, unlocked it and passed it to Shelby.

Shelby breathed a sigh of relief and entered her phone number into Rachel's phone. She took a long look at each of her grandchildren, her gaze lingering on Abby who was absolutely Rachel's daughter. Shelby knew without a doubt Rachel looked like that when she was five. She'd missed out on Rachel's childhood, but she didn't want to miss out on her grandchildren's childhoods.

Rachel helped Abby with her coat and then started to button her up. She wanted to cry in frustration when she fumbled with the buttons-- she still had problems occasionally like this.

"It's okay, Mama," Abby soothed. "I can do it."

"I know, baby. But mommies like doing this." Rachel sounded near tears and her cheeks were flushed with shame.

"Do you want help?" Shelby asked gently.

"I can do it," Rachel whispered. She shut her eyes tightly, took a deep breath to ease the frustration and flexed her fingers. She tried again, this time, with a little difficulty, each button slipped into place. She breathed a sigh of relief. She slipped on the coats of the younger children with a little more ease.

"Mama, I'll push the stroller," Abby offered.

Rachel bit her lip. There was a picture of Abby pushing Ben and Sarah's double stroller when the younger children were newborns, so it was possible Abby just wanted to help because she liked to. But at the same time, maybe Abby was just taking on more than she should because she felt like she had to.

"I'll push, baby. Do you want to give you a piggy back ride while I push?"

She knew she used to do that before the accident-- there were pictures.

"Rachel," Shelby warned quietly. She knew she was stepping out of line, but knowing how injured Rachel had been just a few months ago, and how frail she still looked now, she was alarmed that Rachel would piggyback the child, even if Abby was smaller than average for her age.

Rachel glanced at her, irritated. "I can do it." It was inadvisable, but she could do it.

"It’s okay, Mama," Abby murmured. "I'm gonna walk."

Rachel sighed. "All right." She felt like such a loser. She gave Shelby a small smile. "It was very nice to meet you…again, I suppose," she said, extending her hand.

Shelby took it immediately and held onto it with both hands. "It was so nice to see you, Rachel," she said sincerely. "We'll see each other soon, won't we?"

"Sure," Rachel said, giving a small smile.

\--

Rachel picked up some Chinese take-out on the way home. Quinn was already home-- apparently she'd arrived only several minutes before and the children greeted her happily as they walked inside. Rachel gave Quinn a chaste kiss on the cheek.

There wasn't a manual on how to cope with something like this. She knew it wasn't an unheard thing, but the fact that no one had written a book about the experience led Rachel to believe that maybe the people who could help her by sharing their own experiences were still struggling to get through them. That disheartened Rachel.

"I didn't feel like cooking today," Rachel explained with a small smile.

"I could fathom that," Quinn said returning the smile with a grin of her own.

Rachel busied herself with setting the table. She wasn't working right now and Quinn had been at work all day.

"Rach, let me help you," Quinn protested.

Rachel gently pushed Quinn into her chair and kissed Quinn's cheek. "I got this, baby," she murmured.

The endearment just fell from her lips. It was easy to call a child "baby." But ever since she woke up from the coma, she'd only addressed Quinn by her first name. Things were still awkward between them, but she did feel affection for Quinn. It was inevitable. And since Mike had gone back to Los Angeles, she spent even more time alone with Quinn.

Quinn blushed and beamed up at her and Rachel couldn't resist smiling back. If she'd known something so simple could make Quinn so happy, she would have called Quinn "baby" a long time ago.

It felt nice to hear about Quinn's day--she didn't understand all the lingo, but she didn't say anything because Quinn assumed she could understand, and once upon a time, the assumption would have been correct. As far as Rachel understood, Quinn had a fairly productive, but draining day on set.

On her day-to-day basis, it was easy to have some moments where she could forget that she couldn't remember. When she was with Quinn and their kids and they were just being a family, she could lose herself and just enjoy being around them.

When she ate dinner with her family, when she and Quinn played with their kids and then they put the kids to bed-- stuff like that, it seemed mundane, but it made her believe they'd been a happy family before the accident, and maybe they could be again.

When she and Quinn went to bed that night, they chatted about the past for a bit, as was their custom. So far, nothing they'd talked about jogged any of her memories, but it was nice to know she'd once sang a cover of a Celine Dion song that apparently moved people to tears and that she'd written her own songs as a teenager. Rachel was certain that Quinn was sugar-coating things because while 'Loser Like Me' seemed like a fairly decent song for being written by a highschooler, that was probably one of her better songs. She had to have penned some ridiculously bad songs before that one.

They turned out the lights and Rachel bit her lip contemplatively, staring up at the ceiling. It was so dark in the room, she couldn't see anything, and for a moment, she thought about just closing her eyes and going to sleep. But it'd been three months since she came out of the coma and she was tired of the awkward fragility.

She took a deep breath, rolled onto her side and nudged closer to Quinn.

The action clearly startled Quinn, who breathed in sharply. "Rach? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Rachel whispered. She put her arm around Quinn's waist and began kissing Quinn's neck.

Quinn gasped quietly. "Rachel, sweetie--"

"I want this," Rachel whispered. "Do you want this?"

" _Yes,_ " Quinn whispered starkly. "But Rachel. It's…"

"I want this," Rachel repeated quietly.

Quinn sat up and turned on the light, though at its dimmest setting. She touched a hand to her cheek-- her skin felt like it was blazing. "Rach," Quinn said softly. "I don't want you to feel pushed into anything."

She'd done her best not to push Rachel into anything-- she was always sensitive to the fact she was a stranger to Rachel now. But she could admit to herself that she missed sex-- she and Rachel had an active sex life before the accident. With Rachel's three-month coma, and the last three months of recuperation, it'd been six months since she'd last had sex. It'd been six months since she'd even been properly kissed. It didn't help that when she talked about this with Brittany, her friend gasped and said, "oh my God, your vagina is going to fall off."

"I don't," Rachel breathed. She didn't feel pushed. She didn't want this, exactly, but she did want things to go back to normal, at least, as much as they could return to normal. Couples had sex, and even if she felt very unsexy these days, she did want things to progress with Quinn. After all, the person she'd been before the accident chose Quinn as a partner for a reason. How many 24 year olds were in long-term relationships with three children between them? That clearly meant she'd been committed. She wanted to make this work-- the alternative terrified her.

Rachel pulled Quinn down to her and their lips pressed together.

Rachel sighed softly, because while the feel of Quinn's soft lips on hers did not spark any memories, it did spark feelings she had yet to feel since she woke up. Releasing a soft moan, Rachel's mouth parted and she pushed her tongue into Quinn's mouth.

Quinn felt like a teenager-- she'd forgotten how much she missed kissing. Rachel didn't know this, but Rachel still kissed much the same way. It felt a little different, likely because she and Rachel were essentially strangers to one another, but Rachel was still a proper kisser. The feel of Rachel's tongue moving against hers still ignited something in her.

She wasn't even sure how long they were kissing for until Rachel pulled away, panting.

"I'm sorry," Rachel breathed. "I just…I need a minute," she took a few deep breaths. She coughed a few times.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked worriedly. She pushed Rachel's hair back and touched Rachel's face. Rachel's skin was fevered.

"I'm just…" Rachel trailed off, eyes welling with tears. "I'm _tired_ ," she admitted, cheeks reddening. She sniffled. "I have no stamina."

Quinn laughed gently and kissed Rachel's cheek. "Baby, you were in an accident where you almost died . You broke your back and some major bones in your body. You needed brain surgery. You were in a coma for three months. Do you really think you're going to be at 100% this soon?"

"But we didn't even do anything and I'm _tired_ ," Rachel said shakily. She was so ashamed of herself. How could she and Quinn ever have anything normal if just making out for a while left her this drained?

"Rachel, sweetheart," Quinn murmured. "When you got hurt, the only thing I wanted was for you to get better. And you did."

"But you want more than this, don't you?" Rachel pressed.

She'd asked repeatedly what all this had been like for Quinn-- it couldn't have been easy even though they'd had a lot of extended family support. After the accident, Mike rushed immediately to New York from Los Angeles and stayed for the entirety of Rachel's three month coma and for about a month after she woke up. Santana and Brittany helped out far more than they had to. But still, Quinn must have shouldered most of the burdens. Rachel wanted to know what that was like, but Quinn always brushed her off, claiming they needed to just focus on Rachel.

"I do," Quinn admitted softly. "But at our own pace. We've always taken things slow."

"Have we?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Yes," Quinn affirmed. "I don't want to rush you into anything, Rachel. All I wanted was for you to be alive. I know things have been hard for you, sweetheart. But if you knew…" her voice shook. "If you know how hard it'd been when it first happen, you would understand, you would know that we've had good progress. I know things are going to get even better."

"What if I never remember?" Rachel whispered. "I think…I think this is going to be the way it is now. I don't think I'll remember. All that time…just gone…"

Quinn swallowed hard at the thought. It was true that the thought that twenty-four years of Rachel's life and memories disappearing like that upset her. More often than not, the thought kept her awake at night. Sometimes, during the middle of the day, her new reality would hit her out of nowhere and she would get distraught all over again. As thankful as she was for Rachel being alive, sometimes, it all just _hurt_ so much

"Do you know that song, 'Faithfully,' by Journey?"

"That song that was on that CD you made me of my high school performances? I sang it with my first boyfriend, Huck Judson?"

Quinn was genuinely puzzled. "Who?"

"The one named after Huckleberry Finn."

Realization struck Quinn. "No, baby," Quinn said and she couldn't help it. She snorted at the fact that Rachel got Finn's name so wrong. She chuckled softly. "Finn Hudson," she corrected gently.

Rachel's cheeks pinked. "Oh, right," she said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, believe me," Quinn said with a grin. "Do you have any idea how jealous I used to be seeing you with him back in high school?"

"Why?" Rachel asked, perplexed. She knew for a fact she and Quinn didn't become a couple until college and they weren't particularly friendly in high school. "Did you date him, too?"

"I did date him, but I was jealous because you loved him," Quinn said quietly. Thus far, they'd skirted the issue of Beth, Puck, Shelby and that whole debacle. But they'd have to tell Rachel about it someday soon. "And I loved you."

"Oh," Rachel said softly. "I saw his picture in the yearbook. He was cute, but he doesn't really look like my type."

Quinn smiled. "He just wasn't very photogenic. You just wanted bigger things out of life than he did."

Rachel laughed. "So, the song?"

"What?"

"Faithfully?"

"By Journey?"

"Yes, the song that you asked me if I knew," Rachel pointed out patiently.

Quinn blushed. "Oh, right." She laughed. "I forgot I was the one who brought this up," she admitted with a small smile. Honestly, making out with Rachel had fried her brain a bit, and it was only now that she was just starting to settle down.

Rachel smiled encouragingly at her.

Quinn cupped Rachel's cheek. "There's a line in it about two strangers learning to fall in love again."

Rachel smiled. "That…that could be us."

"Exactly."

Rachel bit her lip and smiled at Quinn. "Turn off the light," she whispered.

Quinn reached out with one hand to shut off the light. Rachel nudged closer and kissed her.

"Goodnight," Rachel whispered, wrapping her arms around Quinn and snuggling close, effectively becoming the big spoon to Quinn's little spoon.

"Goodnight," Quinn echoed. A slow, wide smile spread across her lips. 'Thank you, God,' Quinn prayed sincerely. Even if Rachel never remembered their old life, maybe everything could still be okay. Quinn told herself just to have a little faith.

\--  



	6. Chapter 6

**Year: 2013**

Rachel hummed happily as she entered her dance class. Her teacher, Cassandra July, was an insane harpy, but Rachel couldn't deny that Crazy Cassie's insane ways was making her a better dancer. Yeah, Rachel had never felt lower about herself than in Cassandra July's class-- the only way she'd made it through high school was to believe the bullies were just jealous, so having her college professor point out that her larger-than-average nose and her overall appearance was indicative of a lack of sex appeal didn't exactly bolster her self-esteem. But she was learning a lot in her other classes and Ms. July was undeniably turning her into a better dancer, so she had no regrets about NYADA. She was still lonely sometimes, but she was so happy in New York overall.

Despite the fact she was in the zone where she felt worst about herself, she thought about Santana and Quinn, how two of the prettiest girls she'd ever seen, wanted _her_. She couldn't wait to get home-- after Crazy Cassie's class, she had a vocal class, but then she could go home. By the time she'd get home, Santana would be there. Yes, this new element to their relationship was frightening, but it was also exciting. She worried about Quinn feeling left out and she was worried about her friend all the way in New Haven. Her friend was a hermit and Rachel just didn't want Quinn to be lonely. But Friday was just in a few days, and then Quinn would be here again.

Not even the cross look Cassandra July shot her right before she began class could dampen her spirits.

\--

Ms. July was particularly hard on her that day, but Rachel kept the smile plastered to her face. After all, once upon a time, another pretty blonde tried to make her cry and Rachel somehow won her over. She didn't think she'd get Ms. July to ever like her, but she sure as hell wasn't going to give her bitch of a teacher the satisfaction of knowing that she got to her.

At the close of class, Ms. July held Rachel back.

Rachel schooled her features to be politely blank.

"Yes, Ms. July?"

"Schwimmer, you are the biggest disappointment in all my years of teaching. Maybe the biggest disappointment to ever cross into my life."

Rachel's temper flared, and she barely refrained herself from biting back. After all, Cassandra July was basically a hasbeen whose Broadway dreams were dashed. She found it absurd that _she_ would be the greatest disappointment of Cassie July's life.

Rachel gave her a beatific smile, because really, she's learned that even if someone didn't stop bullying her, not giving them the satisfaction of showing how much it hurt her diminished their joy a little. Santana and Quinn had both copped to that.

"I'm very sorry you feel that way," Rachel said. "I hope to meet your standards under your tutelage," she said politely.

"Schwimmer, I'm a teacher, not a miracle worker or fairy godmother. You have the sex appeal of a duckbill platypus and the grace of an elephant. You look like a goblin in a tutu."

Rachel's smile faltered, and she swallowed hard before she could respond. "Was there anything else you wanted to discuss, Ms. July?"

"Just get out of my face, Schwimmer. I expect you back here after your next class ends to show me just how much you want to pass this class. It's obvious you need some one-on-one attention and when I fail you, I don't want you to be able to appeal and say I didn't do enough."

Rachel's temper flared again. It's not that she had any big plans with Santana--but she didn't want to be around Cassandra July more than she had to. But then she realized that Cassandra July really could fail her, and if she didn't seize these opportunities of one-on-one tutoring, then she'd have no way to appeal her grade. Cassandra July was a bitch, but she was still the bitch in charge. Rachel's shoulders slumped in relief. She was so tired. "Okay," she acquiesced quietly.

"Am I taking you away from any big plans, Schwimmer?" Cassandra jeered. "Judging by your thighs, the only dates you've had lately were with a gallon-sized carton of ice cream."

"No," Rachel said quietly. "I'll be here." She'd have to text Santana later to let her know she was going to be late, but she wasn't going to tell her teacher anything personal.

"Then get out of my sight."

\--

Rachel went to her next class and tried to put thoughts of Cassandra July out of her mind. She texted Santana on the way explaining she'd be late because her bitch teacher wanted her to come back from some private session.

Santana seemed under-enthused and annoyed.

\--

When Rachel got back to Cassie July's class, the other woman was already waiting for her.

Ms. July had not yet heard her enter, so Rachel took a moment to watch the other woman dance. Rachel could objectively appreciate Ms. July's talent and she believed she could learn a lot from her, but Rachel wasn't sure how much more she could take of her professor's denigrating remarks. She'd thought college would be different from high school, but even her professor was a bully. It was a little disheartening.

"Schwimmer, get in here and start to stretch."

Rachel suppressed a sigh and stepped inside.

\--

They practiced mostly in silence with Cassandra giving occasional direction. After two hours, Rachel was exhausted but exhilarated. The extra help--even if the fact she needed it was demoralizing, was actually well, helpful.

"Better, Schwimmer," Cassandra muttered. She crouched down on the floor to adjust Rachel's position.

Rachel's eyes widened when Cassandra's hands wrapped around her thigh and then ran up its entire length. That just felt a little unnecessary.

"You aren’t so bad when you're quiet, Schwimmer," Cassandra said, her voice almost tender.

It wasn't the first time someone's told her she was easier to be around when she was quiet, so she really didn't take offence. But she sure as hell wasn't going to say "um, thanks" like she had to Noah that one time.

Cassandra stroked Rachel's inner thigh and rested where her thigh met her hip. Rachel froze as Cassandra's hands just lingered there. Before this, only Finn, Santana and Quinn had touched her there. This did not feel right to Rachel, but she was too scared to move.

Cassandra felt Rachel tremble under her hands and smiled slightly. There was just something about Rachel Berry that got Cassandra all hot under the collar. At first, she just found Rachel infuriating and irritating, but then somehow, the kid just got under her skin. She'd had her fair share of affairs with students-- both male and female, but none of them gnawed at her like Rachel Berry. She'd even gone into the personal student files to dig more information about the kid-- which was absolutely forbidden unless there was an emergency. She'd done so under the guise of 'knowing thy enemy,' but really the kid was hardly an enemy. She was a doormat.

Cassandra had been dismayed to find out Rachel was still a minor until just last month. But of course, that made the whole thing worse. Once she realized Rachel was only 17, she was able to exercise a modicum of self-control and pushed Rachel out of her thoughts. But then December 18th came along, and fucking Rachel had to turn 18-- which made her a legal adult. Rachel Berry came back to NYADA after Winter Break a full-fledged adult, even if she was barely legal. Barely legal was still legal.

Cassandra knew she was being insane. She was fifteen fucking years older than Rachel-- nearly twice the kid's age. But she was obsessed and no matter how hard she was on Rachel, no matter how much vitriol she dumped on Rachel, the kid just kept getting back up again, always coming back at her with an even bigger smile. The kid's show smile could cause and then cure cancer. Jesus, Cassandra just couldn't get the kid out of her mind. She had sex dreams about the kid and woke up having to rub one out.

She knew it could never go anywhere-- the kid was barely legal and _so_ green. But more than that, she had a fucking future-- Cassandra could see it the moment the kid entered the room. But she wanted to fuck the kid's brains out and see exactly what that pretty mouth could do. She knew nothing could ever happen, but she just wanted a little touch, and if she had to do it under the guise of a private dance lesson, then so be it.

Rachel cleared her throat, snapping Cassandra out of her daze. She realized she was still stroking Rachel's inner thigh and getting a little too close to the point of no return. Right now, if Berry tried to report her, Cassie could always dismiss Rachel as a histrionic, inexperienced kid. A few more inches and Schwimmer would have a good case for sexual assault.

"I have to go," Rachel said quietly. "M-my roommate is expecting me. She'll be worried if I don't get home soon."

Cassandra pulled her hands away. "You were adequate, Schwimmer. See you next class."

Rachel's heart was pounding in her chest as she scrambled away. She only paused to grab her things before she ran out of the room.

Cassandra watched the way Rachel practically fled the room and wondered if she'd gone too far. She'd have to watch the way Rachel behaved next class.  
\--

She was still shaky when she got home. Santana was waiting for her with a pizza that was definitely not vegan. Rachel was half-assing the vegan diet ever since they got back from winter break anyway. She tried to be disciplined, but it was honestly getting to be pretty costly.

"What's wrong, boo?" Santana asked.

Rachel waved away her concern. She knew if she told Santana what happened with her professor, Santana would unreasonably freak out. She still needed time to process it before she'd even consider talking about it anyway. "Let's just eat."

Santana could see that Rachel was rattled by something-- it was written all over her face, and she suspected it had something to do with that horrific professor, but she wasn't going to push quite yet.

They sat in front of the TV and began to eat-- Rachel's side was mushroom, olive and green peppers while Santana's side was sausage, pepperoni, mushroom, olives and green bell peppers. Rachel was still new to the non-vegan diet, so Santana wasn't going to push it. She thought it was enough that Rachel was eating real cheese.

"I think my professor hit on me," Rachel said quietly while they watched the 11 o'clock news. She'd thought about it over the past couple hours

Fury welled up inside Santana. "What the fuck did she do?" she asked lowly.

"Don't look like that," Rachel gasped. The look on Santana's face took her aback. Santana looked like she was going to kill someone. She was afraid of what Santana would do to Cassie July-- not so much for her professor's sake, but for Santana's sake. "It…it wasn't anything. I…"

"You hate her though."

"I don't hate her," Rachel said quietly. "She just confuses me. She just seems to have it out for me and I don't know why. I'm not sure what she was trying to pull."

"She was trying to freak you out, boo."

"She succeeded," Rachel said softly with a wry laugh.

"Show me what she did," Santana requested softly, rising to her feet.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Isn't there usually an anatomically correct doll to accompany someone when asking that question?"

Santana laughed. "Just show me, boo."

Rachel sighed and stood up. "Okay, but you're me and I'm her."

"Yeah, yeah."

Rachel manipulated Santana into the right position and got on her knees, mimicking Cassandra's position. Rachel began rubbing her hands up and down Santana's inner thigh and then lingered where Cassandra had lingered.

"Shit," Santana said softly. She was torn between feeling turned on by the way Rachel stroked her skin and feeling furious that some professor would grope Rachel.

Rachel stopped and pulled her hands away. "I know," Rachel said. The whole thing had been incredibly confusing for her. She objectively thought Cassandra July was hot, but she honestly couldn't stop thinking of her as "Ms. Cassie July, Crazy Lady." She could admit to herself that she was attracted though she'd never cop to it anyone. It was all so confusing and she had enough on her plate to deal with-- she was dating Santana and Quinn. She didn't need to confuse herself further with Cassie July.

"I'll make sure to pick you up after every class," Santana promised. There was no way in hell she'd let this chick keep Rachel after class anymore. She wasn't going to let her girl be alone with some inappropriate drunk bitch abusing her power as a professor.

Rachel rolled her eyes. Between Santana's classes at the community college, acting and dancing classes and shifts at the Olive Garden, there was no way Santana would be able to do that every time she had that class, three days a week. She wasn't about to have Santana endanger her job-- just the fact that Santana could quell her temper enough to serve others was a miracle. Rachel didn't want Santana to test things by trying to work out a schedule around hers.

"I can handle my evil professor. I handled the Unholy Trinity and Sue Sylvester while having Mr. Schuester sabotage my well-thought out plans, I can handle an alcoholic hasbeen," Rachel said bravely.

Santana pursed her lips, feeling a little guilty when she thought about the way she used to treat Rachel. "Fine, but don't even think about giving into her."

"I won't," Rachel said defensively. She wasn't about to admit that she was tempted.

"If she touches you like that again, I'll kill her," Santana said. She used to threaten murder and bodily harm, but she was usually just blowing off steam. Now, she meant it.

\--

Two days later, she was back in Cassandra's classroom again. The moment class was over, she was ready to bolt out of the classroom, but she was held back.

"Hold up, Schwimmer. There's no need to cause an avalanche by stampeding."

Rachel's heart sank. She just wanted to go to her next class because once that was over, she could rush home-- Santana was picking Quinn up at the metro station and by the time she got back to the apartment, Santana and Quinn would be waiting for her. Mike Chang was also coming over so they could all hang out for a while. Despite the fact he only lived a few blocks away, it was hard to schedule something with him-- they were all so busy. Rachel was excited to see him-- she'd missed him and was looking forward to hanging out with him. She and Santana had been counting down the minutes to Quinn's arrival. She had a lot of reasons for wanting to get home as soon as possible. She didn't want to prolong things.

She knew Quinn felt like she'd get left out since Santana and Rachel lived together, but the honest truth was, most of the time, they talked about how much they missed Quinn. Rachel thought it was a plus that Quinn at least felt comfortable to actually say she felt left out, rather than letting it fester. Regardless of how attracted she was to Cassandra July, Rachel just wanted to get home to her girls as soon as possible and she had a feeling her teacher was going to thwart her plans.

"Yes, Ms. July?" Rachel asked perkily.

She knew how to project obliviousness. She was a very good actress.

"You sucked today. You could be the dancing elephant dressed in a tutu with the traveling circus. You're a carnival attraction. Forget about Broadway, Schwimmer. Drop out of school and join some traveling carnival. It's the only way you're ever going to see the world."

Rachel's smile slipped slightly. As much as she tried not to her that get her down, she couldn't help looking in the mirror and seeing a moose look back at her. She was doing her best to make her meals smaller and she'd stopped snacking as much as she used to.

"I'm sorry you found my performance today to be insufficient. Do you have any suggestions for improvement?"

Cassandra leaned in close, her mouth coming close to Rachel's ear. "I told you, Schwimmer. I'm not a miracle worker or a fairy godmother. Either you have it or you don't." Her eyes narrowed. "And you don't."

Rachel took a few steps back, trying to put some distance, but Cassandra just stalked closer eliminating any space between them. Her lips grazed Rachel's ear. Her heart slammed in her chest. "I have to go."

"This is why you'll never make it, Schwimmer. Because you're profoundly lacking in passion, and that's just not something you can teach. Do you expect me to teach you that, too?" Cassandra whispered, her mouth now close to Rachel's lips.

This seemed the moment when she was supposed to just kiss Cassandra to shut her up to prove herself and Rachel was tempted. But she retreated instead.

"I can find my own passion," she said quietly. "I'll--"

The door to the classroom opened.

"Rachel, boo. We have to go."

Santana.

Rachel wasn't sure if she should be relieved or disappointed. Rachel pulled away from the other woman. "Goodbye, Ms. July. I'll see you on Monday," she mumbled as she practically ran toward Santana.

They exchanged a look and Rachel kissed Santana on the cheek."Hi boo." She grabbed Santana's hand tightly.

Santana wrapped her arm around Rachel and turned back to glare at Cassandra before they left her behind.

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought I could walk you to your next class before I headed out to pick up Q."

Rachel gave her a lopsided smile. "Checking up on me, boo?"

"Checking her out," Santana corrected. "She's hotter in person than in her YouTube videos."

"Yes," Rachel agreed.

"She has the hots for you," Santana said bluntly.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "She just wants to give me a hard time. She's trying to chase me out of her classroom so she can say I can't handle it."

"She has the hots for you. You can't be alone with her anymore."

Rachel glared at her. "You can't tell me what to do."

Santana rolled her eyes. "I'm just trying to look out for you, boo."

Rachel softened. "I know, but I can handle this."

Once they got to Rachel's class, Santana kissed her cheek. "I'm going to pick Q up. We'll pick up some dinner on the way home, okay?"

Rachel smiled. "Okay. Don't forget, Mike is going to come over tonight so we can all hang out, so be sure to get enough for him, too, okay?"

"I'd never forget the Changster," Santana said dryly.

\--

Rachel left her vocal class an hour and half later, and was surprised to see Mike waiting for her outside the classroom.

"Hello, gorgeous," he greeted.

He looked handsome. Mike always looked good and today he was wearing dark blue jeans, a white shirt, a red tie and a grey sweater. He was holding a black coat which he offered to her when she approached him.

She shook her head and gestured toward the sweater she was wearing. He shrugged and put the coat back on. He held out his hand and she took it. He grinned at her and pulled her toward him before they began walking arm-in-arm.

They were passing by building where Cassie July held her office hours. Cassie was standing outside of the building having a smoke. Rachel made eye contact as she and Mike passed and she gave the teacher a small smile. Her smile broadened into a grin when Cassie gave her a small smirk in return. Granted Cassie rolled her eyes afterward, but it was the nicest interaction she'd had with her professor thus far.

\--

They were laughing together when they walked into the apartment Rachel shared with Santana.

Rachel squealed when she saw Quinn.

"Hi girlfriend!" she chirped, running to Quinn instantly.

Quinn laughed and they shared a hug and a quick kiss. If Mike was surprised, he didn't show it. He waited for his turn and then pulled Quinn into a hug, picking her up and spinning her around.

"Hi, beautiful," he greeted.

Quinn laughed and kissed his cheek.

Once Mike set Quinn down, he and Santana smiled at one another. Santana threw herself into Mike's arms, carried away by the emotion of the moment.

"Hey, good-looking," he said.

Santana still wasn't a very huggy person, but it was good to see Mike. She laughed. "Hey, handsome."

\--

Dinner was quick-- everyone was hungry and they'd all known each other for so long that there was no shame in eating like barbarians.

"Rach, you should have some more pad thai, you barely ate anything," Quinn said solicitously.

She exchanged a discreet sidelong glance with Santana. A lot of their conversations these days was about Rachel's tendency to burn more calories than she consumed. She'd been like that since middle school-- according to Santana, Rachel's burned at least a thousand calories just by talking since pre-school. But in all seriousness, it usually evened out-- Rachel would indulge here and there or eat a little more while she was PMSing and she'd end up maintaining a healthy weight. Sometimes she veered towards being too thin, but before it got to be a concern, she'd gain a little weight and be healthy again. But ever since Cassie July's class, Rachel was getting skinnier. She still looked good, but it was something Santana and Quinn were keeping an eye on together. Quinn's role important because she saw Rachel less frequently and was thus better equipped to observe the change that Santana couldn't due to constant exposure, and Santana's because her regular exposure gave her a fairly complete picture about Rachel's actual eating and exercise habits. They were both too afraid of alienating Rachel to bring it up, but they both knew it was possible they'd have to bring it up at some point. The three of them were having sex with one another, so it was pretty easy to realize that Rachel was becoming less…substantial.

"I'm not that hungry, really," Rachel said. She picked up the carton of pad thai and held it toward Mike to take. "Mike, you have it."

He shook his head. "You should have it," he declined. "You really didn't eat that much tonight and you should take in some of the calories you burnt today."

Rachel looked exasperated. "I could stand to lose a few pounds."

"No, you couldn't," Mike, Quinn and Santana chorused simultaneously.

It was unplanned, which made it sort of hilarious. But it also made Rachel instantly defensive.

"I think we can all agree throwing a lighter body in the air is easier than throwing a heavier body."

"Is there something we should be concerned about, Rachel?" Mike asked gently.

Santana could have cried with relief that it was being brought up. It was a little earlier than she thought to bring it up, but she was glad it was.

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek, feeling so defensive, she was ready to explode. "There's absolutely nothing any of you should be concerned about relative to me."  
  
Rachel knew she was losing weight, but she was happy with it. She wasn't hugely concerned about the weight of other people, but when it came to herself, she'd always believed she looked her best when she was slightly underweight. She was toeing that line now and she was happy with the way she looked.

Nearly all the girls in her dance class were slightly underweight and she had to admit that Cassandra July's vicious comments about her appearance motivated her into dropping a few pounds. If that meant her cheekbones became a little more prominent and she got a little leaner, Rachel was happy with that.

Mike cleared his throat. "Do you want to go for a walk? Maybe around the block?"

Rachel quelled her flaring temper. She wasn't mad at him-- she was certain the other two put him up to it. "Sure. Let's go, Mike."

She put her hand in his and left without looking back.

\--

He gave her his arm once they got outside, which she took gladly, giving him a fond smile as she did so.

"Why were you getting so defensive?" he asked quietly.

She scowled, but she didn't yank her arm away from him. "I just don't see why they should be so concerned with me when they should focus on themselves. They aren't particularly known for being indulgent with food either."

Mike pulled her in close as they walked. "I'm only speaking for myself," he said, "but I'm just worried. It's been a while since I've seen you, but it hasn't been _that_ long and you look thinner. I just want to make sure you're eating enough since you're exercising so much."

"You don't need to worry about that," Rachel said softly. "All the girls in my classes have been losing weight, too. Our bitchy professor makes sure of that."

"I don't know, Rachel. I've always thought you were special. Too special to look like every other girl."

She gave him a small smile. "Being here has firmly disabused me of the notion that I'm anything special. I'm just like every other girl here. It's why I have to work extra hard to prove that I really do have what it takes."

"You do, Rach," Mike said sincerely.

They passed a bakery and Mike stopped. "Do you want a hot chocolate?" he asked with a smile.

She smiled back. "Sure."

\--

At the apartment, Santana and Quinn were waiting for Mike and Rachel to get back.

"She kind of blew up," Quinn remarked quietly.

"It wasn't as bad as it could have been," Santana countered.

Quinn was embittered. She saw her girls regularly, but not as frequently as she hoped. Their visits with one another were precious and she didn't want to spend any moment of it where anyone was angry with anyone else. "I just know that professor is making Rachel's life a living hell, tearing her down and--"

"She has the hots for Rachel," Santana said bluntly. "She's hitting on Rachel."

Quinn's face hardened. "You're sure?"

"No, blondie. I'm a virgin who can't recognize it when someone is hitting on Rachel."

Quinn scowled. "What did you see?"

"She was trying to hit up on our girl, Q. She kept Rach after class and was pushing herself on her."

Quinn pursed her lips as she thought about it. She didn't know what to do yet, but she wanted to do something.

Santana grinned crookedly. "You look hot when you're plotting, Q."

Quinn smiled wryly. "What makes you think I'm plotting?"

Santana chuckled and reached out to cup Quinn's cheek. "You just get me so hot when you looked vexed, babe."

Quinn leaned forward, smiling lazily. The tone of the conversation had changed, but Quinn couldn't say that she was unhappy with that. She supposed the topic of Rachel's cunty professor could be saved for a time when Rachel was actually around. "Miss me, San?" she teased.

Santana snorted slightly, but she continued to smile. She and Rachel had visited Quinn at Yale last weekend, so it wasn't as though a significant period of time had passed since she'd last seen Quinn. But yes, she'd missed Quinn terribly. She wasn't going to admit it though.

"I missed _this_ ," she drawled before she kissed Quinn.

Santana grinned when Quinn let out a soft moan. She began sucking on Quinn's lip.

Santana still had moments when she couldn't believe her luck. She was dating two of the hottest girls she'd ever seen and they were keeping it casual, which was exactly what Santana needed. But they loved one another, too. They just weren't making it a big deal. She had the benefits of sex and actual affection without the cost of bullshit drama. It was perfect as far as she was concerned.

"Wanna fool around?" Santana murmured. She was already guiding Quinn toward the bedroom.

"Mike and Rachel are going to be back soon and--"

"Chang can be discreet, and I wouldn't be opposed if he wanted to join," Santana said nonchalantly. "But they probably won't be back for a while. You know Chang. He's one of those sensitive types. He'll probably buy her a hot chocolate or an ice cream cone or something and then have some serious conversation with her about how special she is."

Quinn laughed. "Mike is a good guy."

"That's what I said," Santana shot back. "Just not in those words."

They'd entered the bedroom and Santana began undressing Quinn. Once she got Quinn naked, she shoved the blonde onto her bed and began disrobing as well. Giggling, she got into the bed and straddled Quinn's body with her own.

They didn't get to see each other very much, so she didn't see why there had to be a lot of ceremony about this. Roses and candles were for couples who had the time to fuck around and they didn't have that kind of time, so they had to just get down to it.

This proved itself to be true for Rachel as well when she came home from her walk with Mike. On the way back, he'd offered her his back and he'd piggy-backed her home. But when she offered him to come inside for a while, he'd politely declined. Mike made her feel warm and happy, and Rachel could admit to herself she'd reacted overly defensively. She'd come home expecting to find Santana and Quinn in the living room, but instead found them both naked and having sex in the bedroom. At least they were using Santana's bed instead of hers-- they had a habit of doing that.

Rachel took one long look at them, enjoying the show for a moment. They noticed her but didn't stop.

Rachel shucked off her clothing and climbed into bed. "You guys look like you're having fun, I think I'll join you," she said before she began fondling Quinn's breasts and kissing her neck while Santana continued to suck on Quinn's clit.

Santana pulled away long enough to say "it's about time, you pervy voyeur" before she turned her mouth's attention back to Quinn, since the blonde had begun to whine when Santana took her mouth away from her pussy.

Rachel laughed. "I'll get you later," she promised, narrowing her eyes playfully.

Rachel was dealing with a lot in her life at the moment, but she had no doubt in her mind this thing with Santana and Quinn was a good thing for her. They were basically the only people she had any faith in these days-- she had more faith in Santana and Quinn than she had in herself.

They didn't really talk about what was going on between the three of them-- she and Santana slept together more often than not during the weekdays, so they made it up to Quinn on the weekends by putting the focus on her. They all had mini relationships with one another-- she and Quinn, she and Santana, Quinn and Santana that were separate from what the three of them had together. Somehow it just seemed to work.

Rachel thought a change would come. Things would inevitably blow up-- Rachel couldn't imagine that it would end well. But for now, what they had was keeping her going. For once, she was going to enjoy things while she had them rather than living for her future. She was _living_ her future right now.

And really, there was nothing like being double penetrated with strap-ons by her two best friends that made her want to stay in the moment and forget about tomorrow.

She breathed in loud gasps and moans, which she thought was decidedly unsexy, but somehow, both Quinn and Santana found arousing. Neither Santana nor Quinn were being particular gentle with her, and she wondered if maybe they were punishing her a little for chucking a tantrum. If they were, she really didn't care, because their rough movements were decidedly sexy-- she couldn't decide if she wanted to hump forward to fuck herself harder against Quinn's strap-on or thrust backward to grind herself against Santana's. But, really, they were doing most of the work for her. She babbled incoherently as Santana reached around to her front to roughly fondle her breasts and Quinn reached around to her back, slipping in the very minimal space between Rachel and Santana's bodies to pinch her ass.

She came babbling incoherently and pushed away from Quinn to roll onto her back. Her bare breasts heaved as she tried to catch her breath and Santana gazed down at her for a moment before she began sucking on one of Rachel's breasts while massaging the other one.

Gasping, Rachel smacked the back of Santana's shoulder. "Stop it, you," she said with a slow grin. She was still trying to catch her breath and she wasn't going to get all worked up again.

Santana chuckled. "But I don't want your tits to feel unloved, baby."

Rachel chuckled. "Maybe I don't want your tits to feel unloved, baby," she muttered. She grazed Santana's nose with her own. "I think I'd rather fuck your ass though," she murmured. "May I?" she asked. "Hm?"

Santana grinned. If someone had told back in high school that she would be so enthusiastic about getting fucked in the ass by Rachel with a strap-on, she would have glassed them in the throat. But she'd found that the three of them didn't mind a little ass play if it was just between the three of them. Ass play for two seemed off-limits, and she didn't engage in it when she was alone with either Rachel or Quinn. But it just seemed natural when it was the three of them. They were in for a _long_ , happy night


	7. Chapter 7

 

**Year 2019**

Quinn called Santana during a break from filming, hoping she could catch Santana during a free moment. Santana was probably busy filming, too, but Quinn just really needed to talk to her or else she might explode.

Santana answered right away. Ever since Quinn's accident in high school, Santana always picked up if she could. She could still remember the day of Rachel's accident-- she'd sent two calls from Quinn to voicemail because she was rehearsing with a co-worker. Quinn stopped trying to call after that, so Santana assumed that everything was okay. Twelve hours later, it was 5am and Quinn called her again. Even if it was just a few months ago, they were all so much younger back then, the sound of a ringing phone late at night did not inspire terror in her back then. She just assumed Quinn was drunk-or-pocket dialing, even if that wasn't the sort of thing Quinn did. She'd answered annoyed, but when she heard Quinn crying, she knew it was something bad. She thought at first something happened to one of the kids, and her world started to fall apart. Then she heard it was Rachel and she had this immediate flashback to an awful day when she found Rachel sobbing in the bathroom of that shithole apartment they'd shared through college.

"Q? Is everything okay?"

Santana was wary. Quinn never called in the middle of the day just to shoot the shit. Hell, Fabray just wasn't the kind of person to call just to shoot the shit. This had to be important and worry swelled up inside of her. God, her heart was racing and she was starting to sweat.

"Everything's great, San," Quinn said softly. She was smiling and Santana could hear it. She paused. "Rachel kissed me last night," she whispered happily.

Normally, Santana would have rolled her eyes at Quinn's joy over something primary school kids got excited about. But she knew it'd been a long time since Quinn and Rachel kissed. Rachel was basically a frightened stranger, and even though they slept in the same bed, Rachel shied away from affection from Quinn, so Santana knew Rachel initiating a kiss was big.

"That's great, Q," Santana enthused. "How'd she do it?"

Quinn smiled dreamily as she thought back to the night before. "We were in bed and the lights were off. But then she rolled over to me…and then we started making out."

"See, Q? She's coming back."

Quinn swallowed hard. This was the first time she could believe that. Even if Rachel never regained her memories, she was still Rachel. "I know. I'm just so--crap, San," Quinn said, her voice rising slightly. "That's Rachel calling me on the other line. I'll call you right back."

"No, I'll wait," Santana said, responding to the panic. "Let me know she's okay."

"I will, S."

Quinn switched over and Santana remained on the line. Did it make much of a difference if they hung up? Not really, but she didn't want to let go yet. She needed to know Rachel was okay.

Quinn switched over moments later.

She was laughing, so Santana knew everything must be okay.

"She asked me out," Quinn said softly.

Santana chuckled. "What?"

"She asked me out for this Saturday night," Quinn chuckled. "She said she wants to take me out on a proper date and that it's an integral part of the courtship ritual, and that even if we're practically married, the laws dictating wooing are still applicable-- her words."

Santana laughed. "Oh my God, her brain is just wired to speak that way. Shit, she just couldn't help herself. I wish I'd known that before I gave her shit for all these years."

Quinn laughed quietly. "I know," she murmured. "That girl," she muttered affectionately.

Even now, Quinn wasn't the sort of person who laughed from deep down in her belly, but Santana could picture the way Quinn's eyes were shining right now.

"I'm happy for you, Q," Santana said sincerely.

Quinn was still smiling hard-- it was evident in her voice. "Do you think you and Brit could watch the kids while we're out?"

Santana didn't have to even think about it. "Of course."

\--

Rachel was very pleased with herself. She'd asked Quinn out on a date, and while it may seem absurd to be so happy about asking the woman with whom she was raising three children out on a date, it'd been a big step for both of them. She'd texted Brittany to ask if she and Santana could watch the kids while she and Quinn were out, and Brittany had readily agreed. Quinn seemed so happy to have been asked and Rachel was happy Quinn was happy.

She had appointments with her physical therapist, doctor and therapist that morning which carried her to the mid-afternoon. This was one of those days when the daycare picked Abby up from kindergarten so she could join her siblings, and Rachel thought about picking up the three of them early and having another day together. But she was being honest with herself, and she was exhausted and didn't think she was capable of keeping up with them for the rest of the day until Quinn got home. She knew Quinn would be home late-- well after dinner because of her filming schedule.

She decided she'd go home and take a nap-- it was nearly 3pm and she hadn't eaten anything all day. But then she got a text message from Amelia, the woman she'd met in the bakery. She'd asked Quinn if she knew an Amelia, but Quinn hadn't. "I don't know everyone you know," Quinn admitted. "If she was a friend of your dads, then I wouldn't know her."

Amelia was apparently off work and her daughter was still at school, apparently in some after-school program for gifted children. She had some time to kill and wanted to meet up. Rachel couldn't see why she shouldn't, so she agreed to meet Amelia for a late lunch. When she admitted she hadn't eaten yet, Amelia insisted they eat and even though Rachel wasn't particularly hungry, she thought it was a good idea.

\--

Shelby watched as her daughter walked into the restaurant with a slight limp. When Rachel approached the table, she was slightly out of breath. Her heart panged-- it was difficult to see how her daughter struggled. When she thought about how her daughter could have died before she ever got a chance to have a relationship with her, she thought about what an idiot she'd been. She could have had a relationship with her daughter for the past ten years, she could have advised her daughter through her career, had a relationship with grandchildren. Instead, she didn't even know her daughter had been hurt until a serendipitous run-in. She'd done some research on the accident after she ran into Rachel-- she used to Google Rachel's name at least every few weeks, but soon the ache got to be too much and she stopped. If she'd continued on with the practice, she would have seen that nearly every major news outlet had a small blip about it. Rachel wasn't a big star yet, but she was a rising star on Broadway with Tony Award buzz around her, and so the accident warranted some news coverage. She'd wanted to cry when she read about how injured Rachel had been. The news outlets didn't report the amnesia, but the initial prognosis had been very grim.

"I apologize for being late," Rachel said sincerely. "I had a physical therapy appointment today and I suppose I'm slightly more worn out than I thought I would be." She sat down in the chair and almost sighed with relief.

Shelby smiled widely. "There's no need to apologize, honey. I ordered you a glass of water," she said gesturing toward the glass in front of Rachel.

Rachel beamed at her."Thank you," she said, lifting the glass and taking a few long gulps.

"Thank you for meeting me, Rachel," Shelby said softly.

"It's nice to get out of the house," Rachel admitted. "Thank you for inviting me."

Shelby resisted the urge to pull Rachel into a hug. Rachel didn't even know her by her real name. She couldn't push this.

\--

They ordered and ate slowly, taking their time.

"So your daughter is ten, right?" Rachel asked.

Shelby nodded. She grabbed her phone and showed Rachel a recent picture of Beth.

"Huh," Rachel commented.

"What?"

"She's beautiful," Rachel said with a smile. "It's funny, but your daughter looks a lot like my girlfriend, Quinn."

Shelby's blood ran cold, because, of course, this was true. Beth looked very much like a combination between Quinn and Noah Puckerman. But this was treading on very thin ice.

"Hmm, does she?" Shelby asked.

She was planning on revealing herself to Rachel soon. She'd admit to everything, including her motivations for using a fake name. But she didn't want to explain why she didn't take this opportunity to talk about why Beth looked so much like Quinn. She needed a way to change the subject-- fast.

"She does," Rachel affirmed. She reached for her phone and unlocked it. She opened it to her photo album and found the picture of Quinn she'd taken this morning in which Quinn was holding court at the breakfast table. The kids were all looking at Quinn adoringly and Rachel felt her heart swell up with love. Quinn was such a good mom and it only attracted Rachel to the blonde even more.

She showed the picture to Shelby who smiled in spite of herself. It was good to see that Quinn had pulled it together again. Things between the two of them were peaceful for a while, but then something changed while Rachel and Quinn were still in college and Quinn became…unbalanced again. Shelby ended their contact with one another, thinking it was for the best for Beth, but she'd always regretted how completely she cut Quinn out of her life and how she'd given Quinn no chance to contact her again.

"Do you have any other pictures of the kids?" Shelby asked quietly. She was a little disappointed the kids weren't here, but it would have been harder to connect with Rachel if she had to attend to the needs of three very small children, even if Abby seemed preternaturally mature. She needed to see them again, even if it was just a picture.

"Oh, sure," Rachel said, unknowingly falling back into her former role as the proud braggart parent. "Loads." She and Shelby scrolled through the pictures.

Shelby smiled fondly. "Your kids are gorgeous, Rachel."

Rachel grinned. "Thank you."

Sometimes, she felt like her children would have better off if she'd died in the accident. All the children seemed to struggle so much with her recovery that she thought maybe it was better if they had a mother who was dead than a mother who was a stranger. Quinn was beautiful and perfect, so Rachel thought it would have been easy for Quinn to find someone else who would love her and the children. She still had moments when it was all too much for her and she wanted to run away. It was terrifying to have woken up and fallen into a life with so much responsibility she couldn't remember taking on. But she'd fallen in love with her kids-- she was so glad she had a chance to see them grow up. And over the past few months, she'd fallen in love with Quinn, and she was glad for the chance to love her. She still needed to get to know Quinn again, but she was all in now. She was proud of her little family, which she thought was entirely reasonable considering her hot girlfriend and their adorable kids. It's just that she wondered if she was being selfish for being so glad to have the chance to have all of this, when it was obvious that her recovery had been so hard on her family. She still had days and nights when she thought it would have been easier for her kids and Quinn to deal with a dead mother and lover than one who dragged them down like this.

Rachel left that lunch date with the promise she and Amelia would meet regularly. Rachel was happy to have found a friend who knew her from before, but didn't seem to know her very well, and thus, had few expectations of her to be her former self.

\--

Rachel stopped off at home to retrieve the double stroller and then left to pick up the kids from daycare. She was in good spirits, and she couldn't stop smiling when Abby ran to her and jumped into her arms. She kind of thought therapy was a crock-- talking about her problems didn't solve them and therapists couldn't give her advice. Getting her memory back would be the only thing that could really fix her life right now, and she was slowly putting her life back together without the help of her therapist. But she did think that the family therapy was helping, at least with Abby, who initially seemed wary of her and was now slowly trusting her.

"Hi, baby," Rachel said, nuzzling Abby's cheek. She set Abby on the ground and then crouched down, throwing her arms out as Ben and Sarah toddled over to her. She hugged each of them before she signed the kids out and started the trek home.

She started dinner for the kids. The kids had tiny appetites, but they weren't particularly picky eaters. She made mini chicken croquettes and served them with baby carrots and roasted sweet potatoes. She was pleasantly surprised to see the kids gobble everything up. She played with them for a while, bathed them and put them to bed.

She sometimes had a hard time with boundaries. She really liked story time with the kids and when she put the kids to bed on her own, she usually gave into their demands for another story. But she knew Quinn wouldn't like that.

By 9pm, the kids were asleep and Rachel was at the computer researching possible date ideas. She had no memories of her courtship with Quinn, and she hoped she wasn't going to be repetitive. But she needed some ideas.

By 10pm, she felt thoroughly pathetic for Googling terms like "unique date ideas" and "good first date ideas" and "New York date ideas." It just got her demoralized with the urge to cry.

She looked through the music on the computer and decided that she needed to find some new music. Or maybe rediscover old music. She couldn't remember her iTunes password to buy music, so she reset it. And then, somehow she ended up making Quinn a 15-track mix CD. She wasn't sure why. She was certain Quinn would already have most of the songs on her iPod, but Rachel made the CD anyway. She got some white construction paper and made her own cover art. It could hardly be called "art," just a gold star at the bottom right hand corner, because she thought a gold star was a good metaphor for their relationship, and she felt that metaphors were important.

It was already a little past midnight when she realized Quinn would be home soon. It was too late for an entire meal, but she knew Quinn would want a small snack. Quinn loved bacon, and she wanted to give her girlfriend a nice surprise, so she decided on a BLT with sriracha Japanese mayonnaise. She cut the bread so that the sandwich would be smaller than an average one-- it was just a snack, not a full meal. She'd just plated the sandwich when Quinn came home.

"Hey, baby," Quinn greeted, stepping into the kitchen. Her face brightened. "Bacon?"

Rachel giggled coquettishly, but not on purpose. She found this embarrassing and regrettable while Quinn found this charming and endearing.

"I thought you might be hungry," Rachel said softly. "And I know how much you like bacon."

Quinn grinned. "Thank you, Rach." She smiled when she saw the mini sandwich. "It's cute."

She sat down at the table as Rachel set it in front of her with a beer. Rachel sat down at the table with her, and smiled when she saw Quinn grin after taking her first bite.

"I know you probably had dinner," Rachel said. "But I thought you might want a little snack."

"I never pass up bacon." She took a long gulp of beer. "This is spicy," she commented. "Sriracha mayonnaise?"

"Yeah, I mixed sriracha sauce with Japanese mayonnaise."

"It’s really good." Quinn smiled. "And you know how much I love bacon. I could eat an entire pig in one sitting, I think."

Rachel laughed. She reached for Quinn's glass of beer and took a small sip. She was on a number of medications for which the consumption of alcohol was contraindicated, but she didn't think a stolen sip here and there would hurt. The accident had damaged a number of her internal organs, but she was optimistic that she'd one day be able to finish a glass of wine without thinking about long-term ramifications. She'd stolen a sip of Santana's wine six weeks ago, and that was the last time she had any alcohol, so she didn't think she was overdoing it.

"Maybe tomorrow, I'll make a brie cheese and bacon potato soup."

Quinn gave her a wide smile. "That's not kosher."

Rachel was confused. "I keep kosher?"

"No," Quinn laughed.

Rachel laughed. "But I was vegan until college, right?"

"Right. Are you sure you still want to make that soup?" she teased.

"I think you might like it," Rachel said shyly. "Did I ever make something like that before?"

Quinn shook her head. "No, but I'd love to try it."

Rachel smiled. "What time will you be home tomorrow?"

"I'll be home in time for dinner," Quinn said with a fond smile. She pleaded with her show's creator to cut back some of her screen time so she could spend more time with her family. She was lucky her boss was so accommodating.

They chatted for a while, getting caught up on their day, until it was time for Quinn to take a shower. Rachel washed the dishes and then slipped the CD she'd made into Quinn's purse, with a yellow post-it on top of the case. It was meant to be a little surprise. She hoped Quinn would like it.

Rachel brushed her teeth and got into bed. She waited for Quinn to finish blowdrying her hair.

Quinn slipped into bed and pecked Rachel's lips. "Goodnight, Rachel."

"Goodnight, Quinn."

\--

Quinn woke up in the middle of the night when she realized her phone was still in her purse and would need to be charged.

She checked on Rachel first. That was a habit of hers now. Rachel's sleep since the accident was troubled and problematic. She still had aches and pains even if the worst of her physical injuries had been healed by the time she came out of her coma. It made sleeping uncomfortable and Rachel rarely woke up rested.

Rachel was sleeping fitfully when Quinn checked on her-- small moans of pain as she tossed and turned.

"It's okay, baby," Quinn whispered. "I'm here. I'll always take care of you." She smoothed the furrow in Rachel's forehead and gently pulled on Rachel's limbs. She wanted to be careful not to wake her, but Rachel always woke up with a sore back when she slept fetal like that. Quinn kissed Rachel's cheek, gently, and then got out of bed.

Her purse was still in the living room where she'd left it. She opened it and blinked when she saw the CD case with the yellow post-it.

She smiled when she read the note. She swallowed hard as a lump rose up in her throat. It was very common very early on in their relationship, for Rachel to make her a mix CD. Now, they basically shared all their music, so there wasn't a necessity for a mix CD anymore, but it was a very sweet gesture nonetheless.

_Quinn,_

_I thought perhaps you could listen to this when you have some downtime on the set. I hope you will think of me while you hear these songs._

_\--Rachel_

Quinn's read through the tracklist and laughed quietly. She loved that girl. She recognized most of the songs, but not all of them. She tucked the CD back into her purse-- she had a CD player in her trailer, so she'd listen to it when she had some time.

She retrieved her phone and went back to the bedroom. She plugged it into the charger and set the phone on her nightstand. She sighed when she saw Rachel was curled up fetal again. That seemed psychological to her. Quinn didn't put much stock into therapy-- she went along with the family therapy, couples therapy and individual therapy because it was supposed to be best for Rachel and the kids. But she still thought therapy was kind of a crock. Even so, she thought it meant something that Rachel now slept curled up fetal, like she was protecting herself from the world. Before the accident, she slept on her back, frequently in the starfish position. She gently tried to uncurl Rachel as best she could and spooned her, wrapping around Rachel.

"I got you, baby," she whispered.

\--

Quinn woke up the next morning with her arm still wrapped around Rachel's waist. She pulled away from her and sat up. She was stretching when Rachel roused with a yawn. Rachel stretched while still supine.

Rachel groaned.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked softly.

"My back aches a little," she admitted.

"I'm going to…" Quinn trailed off and gestured toward Rachel's back.

It still felt foreign to ask for permission, but she needed to make Rachel feel at ease. They were just getting comfortable with one another again, so Quinn didn't want to push.

"Okay," Rachel said softly.

Rachel rolled onto her stomach and Quinn began to gently massage her back. Rachel moaned softly.

"That feels really good," Rachel said quietly. "Thank you."

Quinn smiled warmly. "Any time," she murmured. She paused for a moment. "I found the CD you made me."

Rachel's cheeks pinked. "Did you listen to it yet?"

"No," Quinn said. "I found it last night when I realized I left my phone in my purse and I needed to charge it."

"I hope you'll like it," Rachel said quietly.

"I know I'll love it," Quinn said. "You used to make me a lot of mix CDs, you know."

"I did?"

"When we were in college," Quinn informed. "You and San were in New York and I was in New Haven. We were trying to see each other every weekend-- we'd trade off. It didn't always happen, but we always made the effort. We used to exchange a lot of mix CDs."

Rachel laughed. "How stereotypical," she remarked.

"We were pretty average," Quinn murmured. "I mean, things were complicated, but we were pretty average, too."

"Hmm," Rachel said thoughtfully. She wondered why things were 'complicated,' but she didn't want to start a potentially difficult conversation so early in the morning when Quinn needed to get to work. "That feels much better," she said softly. "Thank you." She sat up and kissed Quinn's cheek. "I'm going to brush my teeth and get started on breakfast. Do you mind getting the kids up?"

"Sure," Quinn said.

\--

They had to rush through their morning routine, which was pretty typical for them.

Quinn forgot about the CD until she had a break in filming. She was lying on her couch in her trailer reading a book when she remembered the CD Rachel made for her. She grabbed it and inserted it into her CD player.

She closed her eyes and listened.

Rachel had unknowingly selected a few songs that had been very significant in their courtship. Quinn squelched the excitement that rose up inside her-- it was probably coincidental, and not a sign that those memories were buried deep inside. After all, sometimes "This Old Heart of Mine" was just a sweet Motown hit, and not a song that was a significant to their courtship.

She fell asleep for about ten minutes and woke up listening to "Who'd Have Known?" by Lily Allen. Quinn lay there for a long moment, with her eyes closed and smiling. She reached for her phone and texted Rachel.

_Thank you for the CD, I'm listening to it now, I love it_

The reply came back in an instant.

_I'm so glad you like it! See you at home_

\--

The week passed quickly-- almost too quickly. But Quinn had eagerly anticipated the passing of this week. Saturday was date night.

Saturday morning, Quinn woke up to the sounds of her giggling children and a weight on her belly. She cocked open an eye-- Sarah was sitting on her stomach, peering down at her. When Sarah realized one of Quinn's eyes opened, she giggled and bent down she that she was nose-to-nose with Quinn.

"Hi mommy!" she greeted. "We brought food and stuff!" She giggled and flopped down so that she lay next to Quinn.

Quinn beamed at her. "Hi baby!" she exclaimed. She nuzzled Sarah's cheek.

Quinn looked in the doorway -- Rachel was standing there holding a tray of food. Abby was holding a vase of flowers and Ben was holding a book. Giggling, her kids rushed toward the bed and hopped in. Laughing, Quinn threw her arms out to steady Abby or else the water in the vase would spill.

"Mommy, we went to the Farmers' Market and bought you flowers!"

Ben passed Quinn the book. "Here is your new book, mommy!"

"Thank you, babies!" Quinn said, kissing Abby and Ben in turn.

They both giggled under the attention and all three of the children snuggled under the sheets.

"Hi," Rachel greeted softly. She still hovered there in the doorway, looking uncertain and intimidated.

"Hi," Quinn said softly. She must have been exhausted because she didn't realize Rachel even got out of bed. "You made me breakfast."

Rachel nodded shyly. She stepped into the room and approached the bed. She set the tray on the bed. "I...I thought it would be nice if you had breakfast in bed and you could read a book. And I'll take the kids to the park for a while. I--I know it's been a while since you've had any time for yourself."

Quinn gave her a soft smile. "I don't need time away from you guys."

"I just thought it would be nice," Rachel said. "Santana and Brittany said they'd meet me in the park and pick up the kids for the rest of the day so afterward, I'd come home and we could h-have some time together before our date."

That sounded like a wonderful plan and Quinn readily agreed.

Rachel flashed her a happy, relieved smile. She bent down and pressed a quick kiss to Quinn's cheek. "I hope you like the book," she said shyly. "I looked through our bookshelves to get an idea of your tastes and I thought you might like this book," she said, tapping the cover to _Girl with Curious Hair_.

Quinn smiled. She'd read the book of short stories already and liked it, but that was over ten years ago, and she'd lost the copy, so it was actually a good choice. "I know I'll love it."  
\--

The kids left with Rachel, leaving Quinn alone.

This really was the first moment of alone-time she had when she wasn't worried about something else. When Rachel was in the coma, Santana, Brittany and Mike all stepped in to take care of the kids and give her "alone time," thinking if she just got a facial or a massage or something she'd forget the fact that her girlfriend nearly died and was in a _coma_. After the coma, her friends stepped in again, offering to look after Rachel _and_ the kids, but once again, she couldn't relax knowing how her girlfriend was struggling. And as Rachel gradually got better, Quinn was disinclined to leave Rachel's side if she could help it.

She ate slowly-- she rarely had a meal time when she could just take her time. If she was eating while at work, she tended to have to rush her meals. If she was eating with the kids, she had to help feed them. Before the accident, she and Rachel had considered it a miracle if they both had a hot meal at the same time if the kids were around.

Rachel had gone all out-- two pancakes, four slices of bacon, hash browns, one mini blueberry scone, fruit slices and a couple eggs over easy. Quinn also had her option of coffee, orange juice or water. Quinn took a sip of the orange juice and it tasted freshly squeezed. Quinn chuckled-- Rachel always overdid things, but it was cute.

Quinn ate _everything_ and was a little embarrassed for herself. She took the tray into the kitchen. It was spotless. Quinn shook her head, she had no idea how Rachel did it. Quinn washed her dishes and then got back into bed.

Quinn she lost herself in the book until Rachel came home.

"You like it?" Rachel asked with a wide, eager smile.

"Yes, I like it a lot," Quinn said. "He's one of my favorite authors."

Rachel smiled. "You look comfortable, may I join you?"

The smile on Quinn's face froze for a moment, but she recovered quickly. "Of course you can."

Rachel got into bed and cuddled up to Quinn. "Do you really like the book?" she pressed.

"I really do," Quinn confirmed, putting her arm around Rachel. "Did you and the kids have fun at the park?"

Rachel nodded earnestly. "Yeah. And that woman I told you about--Amelia, the one who knows my dads, met us at the park. Her daughter was at a friend's house, so she had free time."

"How old is her daughter again?"

"Ten."

"Did you ask your dads about her?"

"No," Rachel said. "It'll just upset them."

"Well, we should get together sometime."

"The kids really seemed to like her-- they had a lot of fun. But now I'm _tired_ ," Rachel said. She laughed. "They have so much energy," she marveled.

"Did Santana and Brittany get to meet her?" Quinn asked innocently, but really, she wanted to know if this woman actually knew Rachel from before or if she was just some Broadway groupie. Rachel hadn't made it big yet, but she'd been well on her way, and she had her own devoted fan base. This Amelia woman seemed to know enough personal information about Rachel's early childhood that wouldn't be able to be found online, so Quinn thought she was legit. But until she met her, she wouldn't be sure.

"No," Rachel said. "She left before Santana and Brittany got there, but maybe another day."

"Definitely."

Quinn put this Amelia woman in the back of her mind. She had other things to think about now, like her date with Rachel that evening.  
\--

It was a funny thing to get ready for a date when her date was in the room with her. Quinn pretended not to notice how nervous and jittery Rachel was. At first, at least. When Rachel slipped on the rug in their bedroom while pacing the full length mirror in her fourth wardrobe change, Quinn realized she'd have to step in. She was nervous, too, but she wasn't falling flat on her ass, either.

Quinn rushed to her side and crouched. "Rachel!" Quinn half-scolded. "Are you okay?"

She was starting to get over her instinctive fear when Rachel got even moderately injured. In the early days after Rachel's return home, she fell quite a bit and though she never really injured herself from falling beyond the odd bump, bruise or cut, it still made Quinn freeze.

Rachel was blushing furiously. "I tripped," she pouted, rubbing her butt.

"Well, that's what you get for pacing around, baby!"

"I just wanted to look nice," Rachel muttered. She was self-conscious about her appearance. She knew she didn't look 100% healthy yet-- she still looked a little sickly. Most of the time, she wasn't hung up on it. She'd lived through a bad accident, so she could hardly expect to come out of it unscathed. But taking Quinn out on a date was different. Quinn was the most beautiful woman she'd seen and she felt self-conscious about the juxtaposition of her appearance against Quinn's. She wanted people who saw them together to think "that makes sense" not "what is someone so beautiful doing with that troll doll?"

"You're beautiful," Quinn whispered sincerely.

Self-consciously, Rachel touched the back of her head where it'd been shaved. The hair was growing, and was basically hidden, but she knew it was there. It was getting pretty long, but still shorter than the rest of her hair. She didn't feel beautiful most of the time.

"I'm going to finish getting ready," Rachel muttered, moving to get up.

Quinn put her hands on Rachel's shoulders. "You’re beautiful, baby."

"Thanks," Rachel muttered.

"Rachel," Quinn said, holding on a little tighter. "You're beautiful. I can't wait to go out on our date because I know everyone is going to be jealous that I'm with the most beautiful woman in the room."

Rachel chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I think that's going to be you, Quinn."

Quinn shook her head. "No. It's going to be you," she said softly. "Just wear this dress, okay?" Quinn said, fingering the material of the light pink dress Rachel was wearing. "I like this one the best."

Rachel flashed a small smile and shot forward to push her lips against Quinn's in a quick kiss. "You should wear that red dress I saw in your closet," she suggested shyly. "I know you'll look beautiful in it."

Quinn smiled. "Okay."

\--

Quinn made a conscious effort not to ask Rachel what they were doing or to question if Rachel felt well enough to actually go on the date. She decided it was time to trust that Rachel knew what she was doing. She wasn't 100% healed yet, but she was an adult.

They took a cab to the restaurant. It was an unnerving experience for Quinn-- she thought about how a cab accident was the reason for Rachel's current condition and she gripped Rachel's hand overly fiercely.

Rachel held her hand and squeezed. She flashed a soft, comforting smile at Quinn and then rested her head on the crook of Quinn's neck.

\--

The restaurant was cozy and slightly too dark, but the dimness wasn't unpleasant. It made Quinn think back to the early days of their relationship when they'd dim the lights in the living room after Abby went to sleep and would spend the evening kissing.

They stuffed themselves with an appetizer, entrees and dessert. By the time they were done, Quinn was in dire need of a walk to work off some of the calories she'd just consumed.

Rachel gave Quinn her arm once they stepped out of the restaurant.

"I thought we could go for a walk," she said, patting her belly with her other hand. "I feel like I should have been rolled out of the restaurant."

Quinn grinned. "I could use a walk, too," she said, taking Rachel's arm. They started to walk around the block. Quinn refrained herself from asking if anything looked familiar to Rachel, because even if anything did, it was more likely to be from Rachel's recent explorations of the city than a restoration of her memory. She just wanted to keep this moment happy.

They walked too leisurely for there to be any benefit in burning off calories, but Quinn enjoyed the walk anyway. It was nice to have Rachel to herself like this, and she knew their children were safe with Santana and Brittany. Santana, in particular, would die for any of the children.

This was one of her better nights in a very long time.

They'd walked most of the block and were almost returning to the restaurant when Rachel began to fidget. They were standing under a street lantern, and Quinn tried not to let her face fall, knowing it would be illuminated. Assuming (incorrectly), that Rachel needed some space, Quinn began to pull away, but Rachel held onto her arm.

Sucking in a deep breath, Rachel faced Quinn, stood up on tip toe and kissed Quinn soundly on the mouth. Quinn's eyes widened in surprise before her eyes shut and she gave into the moment. They kissed languidly for a few minutes, under moonlight, with the sound of traffic in the background, competing with the hammering of their hearts in their ears. The radio in Quinn's heart thumped out a song in C major and she barely suppressed the urge to burst spontaneously into song

When they pulled apart, they smile at one another and wordlessly resumed walking again, arms linked. They passed the restaurant and kept walking. Quinn followed Rachel blindly until they reached a small club.

Rachel smiled at Quinn. "Um, I heard Rachael Yamagata is playing a small show here tonight. You like her, don't you?"

Quinn's brow arched in surprise. "I love her. I didn't know she was playing."

Rachel smiled crookedly. "I'm sure other things have preoccupied you."

"Rach--"

"Let's not think about that tonight," Rachel interrupted gently. "Let's go inside."

Rachel led the way. They found seats and settled in as the club became increasingly crowded.

The lights dimmed and the concert started. Rachel pulled Quinn in close, so Quinn could rest her head on Rachel's shoulder. Quinn sighed contentedly. Even before the accident, nights out like this were rare-- having children did that to a relationship, assuming that every other parent they knew was to be believed. It was nice just to be with Rachel like this, and Quinn resolved herself to more date nights with Rachel.

The concert was amazing and Quinn was in a good mood as they exited the club. As far as date nights went, this was pretty standard, and yet, Quinn's spirits were bolstered.

They checked in with Santana who urged them to just go home instead of coming over to pick up the kids, who were already tucked into the bed in Santana and Brittany's spare bedroom.

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with that," Rachel said, forehead furrowed. "I…I don't really want to be away from them overnight."

Quinn smiled reassuringly. "San and Brit have watched the kids overnight before, baby," she informed. It was nice to know that no matter what, Rachel was always a worrywart about that sort of thing. "We've had to leave to film on location at the same time sometimes, and when we do, S and Brit always watch the kids. The spare bedroom over there is even decorated to make the kids comfortable."

Rachel swallowed. "But we'll pick them up the first thing tomorrow morning, right?"

Quinn smiled. "Of course. Believe me, San and Brittany can't handle our kids for more than one day."

Rachel smiled lopsidedly. "We've got good kids."

"Yeah, they're cute and all, but believe me, San and B aren't going to like, steal them from us, okay?"

Rachel blushed, realizing her worry was for nothing. "Okay."

Quinn passed the message onto Santana, who texted back immediately that she and Brittany would drop the kids off tomorrow, no big deal. Quinn chuckled and hailed a cab, loving her friends. Quinn held tightly onto Rachel's hand. She couldn't quite believe this was real and ears sprang suddenly to Quinn's eyes-- there was a time, not so long ago, when she thought she'd never have a chance to do this again. Maybe it wasn't the same anymore, but Rachel was here, healing and vibrant. What more could she rightfully ask for?

\--

They walked into their apartment, filled with quiet joy. They got ready for bed together-- Rachel taking the first shower while Quinn walked around, making sure the stove and lights were off, the windows were shut and the door was locked, as was her nightly ritual. Quinn was drinking a glass of orange juice when Rachel walked out of the bedroom with her hair wrapped in a towel.

"Shower is all yours," she said cheerfully.

"Thanks, baby."

\--

Quinn emerged into the bedroom fresh from her shower, with only a towel wrapped around her.

Rachel was sitting on the bed, clad only in a lacy white bustier. Quinn froze when she saw her, mouth suddenly dry. Her heart thumped in her chest. The juxtaposition of Rachel's skin against the pristine white bustier made Quinn think how Rachel could put Victoria's secret to shame.

"Hi," Rachel said softly.

Quinn cleared her throat. "Hi," she croaked.

Rachel got off the bed and approached Quinn slowly. She gave Quinn a slight smile when they were standing directly in front of one another.

"Hi," Rachel said quietly.

"Hi," Quinn whispered.

Slowly, Rachel reached out and gripped the towel, right between Quinn's breasts. She swallowed hard. "May I divest you of this?" she whispered.

"Okay," Quinn breathed.

Rachel pulled the towel away and tossed it into the bathroom, seeming not to care that the wet towel really should be hung up to dry properly. Neither Quinn nor Rachel cared at that moment.

Quinn stood before Rachel, naked and willing to do anything she asked. Quinn's head ducked bashfully--she loved Rachel, but Rachel was essentially a stranger to her now, and being naked in front of her was making her feel like some fifteen year old virgin.

"You're so beautiful," Rachel breathed. She took Quinn by the hand and guided her to the bed, gently pushing Quinn into it, onto her back.

Rachel climbed into bed, straddling her. "You've been so patient," she crooned tenderly.

"What do you mean?" Quinn queried softly.

"You know," Rachel whispered, pressing forward and nuzzling Quinn's nose with her own. "You never pressured me, not even once," she murmured. "All these months and you never pushed, not even a little."

Quinn swallowed hard. She didn't know what to think or do. She never pushed because she never wanted Rachel to feel pressured. Rachel was scared enough without Quinn pushing for sex. Quinn was trying to keep her family together-- sex, as much as she missed it, was the least of her concerns. She was more preoccupied with making sure their children still had their mama and that Rachel felt as supported as possible.

"Do you feel pressured right now, Rach? Is that what this is about?" Quinn asked softly. She was cautious, but she couldn't stop herself from fingering the straps on one of Rachel's shoulder. She was filled with the urge to pull down the straps and rip the bustier right off Rachel's body. She rubbed Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel smiled widely. " _No_ ," she whispered emphatically. "I want this," she said. "I have for a while, but I've…" her voice caught. "I j-just needed some time," she stammered. "I…this…this will be m-my first time since…and it's going to be the f-first time I can remember. I…I've been Googling how to…because I wanted to be able to--I didn't want you to be disappointed and I-I know I seemed frigid, but really, I j-just needed to research and--"

"Breathe," Quinn cut in gently. Rachel was rambling, but it sounded panicked. She really needed her girl to calm down.

Rachel was stuttering and fidgeting. She looked terrified and mortified at the same time.

Quinn held Rachel's hands. But it suddenly hit her that it really was like Rachel was having sex for the first time tonight. She wanted it to be special, but 'special' was a cliché for sixteen year olds. They were practically a married couple and had three children between them. Something as banal as memory, or its lack of persistence, wasn't going to change it. It was enough that it was like _this_ \-- the two of them after a fun night out, hanging out in their bedroom, naked, warm and willing. "It's okay that you needed time. And you weren't frigid, baby. I know you just needed time." Emotion welled up in Quinn's throat. "I can't even imagine how scary every day must be for you. Whatever you need, take it, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel murmured. " _Take_ this off me, okay?"

Quinn swallowed hard, and her pupils dilated. She suddenly felt drunk-- she was certain her pupils were likely exhibiting nystagmus. Her inhibitions were gone, but she needed to ask once more if Rachel was sure.

"Baby, are you s--"

"I'm sure," Rachel interjected gently.

"Okay," Quinn breathed.

The bustier was off Rachel's body in _seconds_. Quinn's eagerness made both of them chuckle. Quinn kissed her.

\--

Quinn wanted to be gentle with Rachel-- it was their first time together in a long time, after all.

Quinn's body covered Rachel's, but the blonde was careful not to rest her full weight on her girlfriend. They were both trembling and Quinn touched the back of her hand to Rachel's cheek. She stroked Rachel's cheek reverentially. She couldn't believe this was actually happening.

"You don't have to be so gentle," Rachel whispered. "I'm not made of glass." She smiled and gently touched Quinn's lips. "I'm here," she said, patting her chest, making a distinct thump. "I'm here and I'm not made of glass."

"I've loved you since I was fifteen," Quinn said, her voice catching slightly. She gazed down at Rachel's face and flashed back to the first time she ever saw Rachel. It was a few months into their freshman year in high school and Quinn had convinced herself she was asexual. Then she saw Rachel trailing after some teacher in the hallway, averring quite strenuously that the teacher had incorrectly scored an exam. Rachel was so animated and _pretty_ and in that moment, Quinn asked God why He'd forsaken her. She'd immediately regretted the borderline blasphemy as if her piddly teenage crush was even remotely akin to Jesus's suffering. But she just couldn't shake Rachel-- she was consumed. And so Quinn threw herself into trying to change herself. She targeted Rachel, hoping she could free herself. She'd been certain Rachel bewitched her, like one of those sorceresses the Bible condemned and so Quinn set out to destroy her.

But people were like salmon-- no matter how hard they tried to swim upstream, they always ended up where they started from and so, of course, Quinn stayed in love with Rachel.

Rachel smiled. "I love you," she said softly, simply. It was true-- she'd fallen in love with Quinn and this time, she could remember it, which made it so much better. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For everything. I don't know how I could have survived without you."

Quinn smiled. "I've loved you through argyle and animal sweaters, you think a coma and amnesia was going to scare me away?"

Rachel laughed. "Okay."  
\--

Quinn moved so that she positioned her head between Rachel's legs.

"Wait," Rachel breathed out. "I want--I want to do this to you. I-- I mean, I want this to be your…turn, I guess?" she ventured tentatively.

"But I-- I mean…"

"Trade positions with me," Rachel ordered quietly.

Quinn blinked. This was by far the most awkward sexual encounter she'd ever had with Rachel, which was kind of befitting. It was almost funny, except that Quinn's body was humming with anticipation and desire. But she obeyed Rachel's orders.

Rachel's head was near the foot of the bed and she positioned herself so that her head was close to 'V' of Quinn's legs while Quinn's head rested between Rachel's legs.

Quinn sighed shakily when she felt the first lick of Rachel's tongue in the folds of her pussy. It'd been so long since they'd had sex, Quinn felt like a teenage Finn Hudson-- she thought to herself "mailman, mailman" so she could hold on longer. But she actually ended up making herself chuckle quietly. She relished her first taste of Rachel with a long, slow lick, smiling when she heard Rachel let out a whimpering moan.

They took their time with one another, savoring the moments. With the children at Santana and Brittany's home for the night, they could truly be uninhibited and their cries were joyous.

Quinn explored Rachel's body-- there were new scars, but she still knew that body better than she knew her own. She knew that softness under Rachel's arms. She knew the little beauty mark on Rachel's left hip. It was so tiny, a person could hardly see it unless one looked for it, but Rachel had always been self-conscious about it. She knew the tattoos on Rachel's right hip-- A.C., B.C, S.C. Abby Chang, Benjamin Chang and Sarah Chang. She knew the little scar on Rachel's right knee from a bicycle accident when she was seven and the tiny scar on Rachel's left foot from where she tried to leap over a cassette holder when she was three and ended up jumping into it instead. She remembered exactly how every inch of Rachel felt. There were differences now, too. There were scars from the accident on various parts of Rachel's body. Quinn thought to herself that maybe she and Rachel really were made from one another because Quinn herself carried a mosaic of scars from her accident in senior year.

"Wow, baby," Rachel whispered trailing her finger down the slit of Quinn's pussy. She was so wet.

Rachel was honestly a little surprised how by how Quinn responded to her. There have been times over the past few months when she wondered if Quinn was still attracted to her, or if Quinn stayed with her out of obligation. After all, what sort of horrible person would leave her brain-damaged girlfriend when they had three children together? Quinn simply wasn't that sort of person. Rachel doubted Quinn was even capable of being unkind-- everything she'd seen of Quinn over the past few months indicated Quinn was unyieldingly kind with the patience of Job. To Rachel, Quinn always seemed like one of those old timey captains who would sooner go down with the ship than abandon it. She never quite believed Quinn was staying with her out of anything more than a sense of obligation and loyalty until now.

She wished she hadn't waited so long. She wished Quinn had felt comfortable pressing for more because maybe they could have had this sooner. Even if this was all new to her, her inner voice told Rachel that this was the right thing, that this was supposed to happen.

When they finally wore themselves out into a boneless exhaustion, they were on the floor of the bedroom. The sheets and blankets balled up together next to them on the floor. They were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat. They'd even pulled the fitted sheet off the bed and it was now dangling onto the floor.

Rachel lied on the ground with her head on Quinn's shoulder. She was absolutely exhausted-- Quinn had been gentle and patient with her, but Rachel had honestly pushed the limits of her stamina.

"Was that okay?" Rachel asked, her voice tiny.

"Are you serious with that?" Quinn wondered, baffled. She thought this was one of those instances of res ipsa loquitor.

"Well…"

"Rachel, that was way more than just okay," Quinn was quick to assure. "That was amazing."

Rachel was tempted to ask if Quinn was as satisfied with her performance now as she was before the accident, but Rachel ultimately decided it didn't matter. It was possible she would never regain her memories and she didn't want to live always comparing herself to who she'd once been. She'd been obsessed with trying to be who she once was, but she was reconciling herself with the fact she may always be this way. It was easier said than done, but she was going to try.

Rachel chuckled and snuggled into Quinn. Eventually, they'd have to get up and make the bed with a set of fresh sheets. But she was going to enjoy this snuggle while she could.

"I'm going to have to shower again once we get up," Quinn commented lazily.

"Me too, but it's okay, we can shower together this time," Rachel grinned impishly. "Water conservation is important." She wiggled a little, as if to prove a point.

Quinn chuckled, amused. She didn't say anything, but she kissed her-- she could still taste herself on Rachel's lips. She stroked Rachel's cheek with her thumb. God, she loved her.

Quinn was struck with the sudden memory of asking God why he'd forsaken her when she sat by Rachel's bedside while her girlfriend lay comatose. It occurred to her now that every time she'd asked that question, she was always rewarded with her life's greatest gifts-- Rachel, Beth, the children she was able to raise, and then Rachel again. She decided in that moment she would just have faith that everything was going to be okay. It was true-- He'd never given her anything more than she could bear, even when it felt too much at the time. She was going to put her faith in God and her trust in Rachel and herself.

\--

In the shower, Rachel trailed her hands over the scars on Quinn's body from her own car accident. She cried quietly when Quinn explained the accident, but she was do distressed Quinn deliberately left out exactly where Quinn was headed in such a rush. It was a lifetime ago.

"I'm so glad you're alive," Rachel cried softly. "I just know my life would have been worse without you."

Quinn smiled gently. "Do you get why I'm so thankful for exactly what we have right now?"

Rachel gave her a small smile. "I'm starting, too."

\--

When Quinn woke up the next morning, she could smell coffee brewing. Smiling, she got out of bed. She'd only slept for a few hours, but she felt rested. She padded into the kitchen and found Rachel making waffles, singing along to 'Defying Gravity.'

"Hi," Quinn greeted, kissing Rachel on the cheek.

"Hi," Rachel grinned. "I'm making waffles."

"I can see that, Betty Crocker," Quinn teased. "I didn't even know we had a waffle maker." She poured herself a cup of coffee and moaned in appreciation. She'd marry Rachel for her ability to make coffee alone-- she never could get her coffee to be as good as Rachel's.

"Me neither," Rachel laughed. "I'm still exploring everything. I found an electric citrus juicer the other day."

Quinn smiled. "That was probably you who bought that," she chuckled.

Rachel plated the waffles straight out of the waffle iron and turned it off. She held it out for Quinn to take.

Smiling, Quinn took the plate. Rachel passed her a fork, which she took gratefully and cut a portion off. She sighed in contentment. This was what life was truly about-- her girl, a hot cup of coffee and a fresh waffle.

"I talked to Santana this morning. She and Brittany are taking the kids to breakfast and then they’re going to bring them home," Rachel informed.

"Sounds good," Quinn said with a smile. She reminded herself to do something nice for Santana and Brittany later.

The song changed into "Sleepwalk" and Quinn set the plate aside. She grasped Rachel by the arm. "Dance with me," she murmured.

Rachel smiled and acquiesced. She pressed her face into Quinn's neck and kissed it as they swayed.

\--

They were still in the kitchen, dancing, when Santana let herself in with the emergency key.

Quinn and Rachel were slow dancing to the Lana Del Rey cover of 'Blue Velvet.'

Santana was furious as she watched them for a moment. "Would you guys fucking put off the H&M commercial for five seconds next time and answer the fucking phone or answer the goddamn door?!" she demanded.

They jumped apart.

"What the hell, San?" Quinn demanded, clutching her hand to her heart. Her heart was racing. She'd had such a great time and Santana basically threw a metaphorical bucket of water on her.

"I called you like a million times and I rang the bell like, a trillion times," Santana said irritably. But her eyes were red-rimmed. When no one answered the door and neither of them answered their phones, she'd thought the worst. She thought something terrible happened, and so she had Brittany stay with the kids outside the door and let herself in. She'd been expecting the worst and seeing Rachel and Quinn just dancing in the kitchen like a couple of love-stoned idiots while she'd been terrified got her irrationally angry.

"I'm sorry, Santana," Rachel said apologetically, eyes downcast. "I think we just got lost in the moment." She bit her lower lip contritely. "Thank you for watching the kids."

Santana sighed, feeling like the biggest asshole on the face of the planet. "It's okay, boo," she said with a sigh. "I'm going to tell Brit to come in with the kids." She turned around to call out toward the door. "Babe! Get in here."

Brittany came in holding one of Ben's hands in her right hand and holding one of Sarah's hands in her left. Abby ran ahead of her and straight into Rachel's arms.

Quinn smiled hugely-- it was the first time since Rachel woke up from her coma that Abby ran to Rachel first instead of her. Things were truly getting back to normal. Ben and Sarah ran to Rachel as well and she was swarmed.

Rachel knelt down to their eye level, wishing she could pick all three of them up at the same time, but truth be told, it was still hard to even pick up one of them. She needed to be careful considering she'd broken her back, but sometimes, she wanted to just say "stuff it" and pick them up and dance around. She resisted the urge and settled for smothering their faces with kisses.

She was glad for her night alone with Quinn, but she'd also really missed the kids. She realized how much she was finally settling into her life when the thought of spending time with her family made her happy instead of scared.

Brittany kissed Quinn's cheek. "I told her you guys were fine, but you know San once she gets an idea into her head."

"Thank you, B," Quinn said.

"Did you have a yummy breakfast?" Rachel asked Abby with wide eyes.

Abby nodded emphatically. "I had chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream and _bacon_!"

"Wow! Did you say thank you to Brittany and Santana?"

Abby looked at Rachel as if she were crazy. "Of course I did, Mama."

Rachel laughed. "Thank you, baby."

Santana and Brittany stayed to chat for a bit, but soon Quinn was shutting and locking her front door. She walked into the living room and saw Rachel settling into with the kids to watch a movie. Quinn heaved a deep sigh of relief and joined her family.


	8. Chapter 8

  
**Year 2013**

It was cynical to believe that nothing gold can stay, but Rachel was young and prone to the cliché of youthful cynicism.

She'd allowed herself to get swept up by her feelings into the joy of love. For a while, everything worked-- it was all so blissful even when it wasn't and she somehow made it work with _two_ other people when history had hinted she could barely make it work with _one_. Heck, sometimes, she had a hard enough time putting up with herself.

But of course, things can't stay good forever.

Quinn started to beg off on their weekends, and after a month passed by, it became clear.

"She met someone," Santana said glumly.

Rachel was outraged. "What? No, of course not. She didn't meet anyone. She's just busy. The way we're busy."

"That's why we work extra hard during the week, boo. So we can spend the weekends with her. If she's not coming here, it's because she's met someone and she's not copping to it."

"But she wouldn't do that to us." Rachel's eyes were wide and hurt.

Santana rolled her eyes, though she was privately hurt, too. "Look, boo. This thing between the three of us was casual. We never really agreed to anything. She can mess around with someone else if she wants."

"But she's not," Rachel said. "She's never once mentioned anything."

"And you don't think things have been a little weird with her lately? Other than that she won't come here and won't let us go there."

"No," Rachel said defiantly. But then she swallowed hard as she thought about it.

Their conversations lately had seemed a little…weird. It wasn't anything in particular. But Rachel had felt like Quinn was holding something back. She couldn't pinpoint anything. It was just a feeling.

"Well, I felt like she was being decevious, boo."

Rachel blinked. "Decevious is not a word."

"It's one of those portmanteaus you love so much."

Rachel smiled. "Which two words?"

"Deceptive and devious."

Rachel chuckled. "That's quite clever, boo." Her face fell. "Maybe you're right," she said quietly. "Maybe she met someone."

Santana's expression became dark. "Of course she's met someone." Her eyes hardened. "We're gonna have to do something about that."

She was territorial. So, sue her.

\--

As it worked out, they didn't have to do much of anything. Quinn took the metro into the city the following weekend. Rachel and Santana had no idea she was coming until she showed up at their apartment.

Rachel's face bloomed into a wide grin and yanked Quinn into the apartment.

" _Hi,_ " Rachel greeted happily.

Quinn smiled and kissed her cheek. "Hey, you."

Santana came out from the restroom and immediately rushed to Quinn. "Fabray!"

Quinn chuckled and threw her arms around Santana. "Lopez," she greeted drolly. She kissed Santana's cheek.

\--

Quinn was unusually quiet through dinner. She wasn't a particularly loquacious person, but she wasn't creepily silent either.

She had a lot on her mind.

Quinn finally just bit the bullet. She took a deep breath. "I have to tell you guys something," she said softly.

Santana and Rachel looked at one another and instinctively reached for one another's hands. They waited expectantly for Quinn.

"I haven't done anything," Quinn said quietly. "But I did meet someone."

Santana clenched her jaw as Rachel tightened her grip on Santana's hand. She decided to leave the questions to Rachel, or else she would blow up at Quinn and possibly ruin everything. She had no idea how some Yalie would ever compare to her _and_ Rachel at the same fucking time. What was wrong with Fabray, was she crazy?

"I've been spending a lot of time with her," Quinn said softly.

"Yeah, I bet," Santana snapped.

"Boo," Rachel said, putting her hand on the side of Santana's neck to calm her down. She forced herself to smile. "Tell us about her, Quinn," she said, though she wanted to find this girl that Quinn was apparently into and beat her.

"She's just a friend," Quinn said. "She works in a coffee shop on campus."

Santana rolled her eyes. "So, her big draw is that she makes a good latte?"

"A good earl grey latte is hard to find," Rachel and Quinn said together. They exchanged small smiles.

Santana crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Fuck, Q."

"She's just a friend," Quinn repeated, a little defensively.

"Yeah, friend," Santana muttered sarcastically.

Quinn looked angry. "It's not as easy for me as it is for you guys," she snapped. "You guys have one another here-- I'm out there on my own. I get lonely sometimes, okay? And it's just nice to have someone to study with or get dinner with. You guys have one another all the time. I get the weekends."

Rachel sighed softly, thinking to herself Quinn being lonely was one of her biggest concerns. She just couldn't be mad about this-- hurt, disappointed and jealous? Certainly. But not mad.

"She's good to you?" Rachel asked quietly.

"So far," Quinn said softly.

Rachel sighed. "Okay."

She wasn't okay with it exactly, but what else could she do? She thought about what this arrangement was like for Quinn and she could concede that it was inevitable for the blonde to feel left out and lonely. After all, she and Santana lived together while Quinn lived in an entirely different state. The arrangement wasn't exactly fair, and even though she and Santana each cultivated their own relationships with Quinn outside of their little triad, she could admit that it would make sense if Quinn felt left out. This was probably inevitable, but it made Rachel feel so sad.

"Look, I know we never made anything official between the three of us," Quinn said. "But I felt like I needed to come see you guys and tell you about this in person."

"You're a real Girl Scout, Q."

"Santana," Rachel said warningly. She smiled at Quinn. "You aren't together with her yet, right?"

"No," Quinn said softly.

"Okay, then," Rachel said. "I knew it wasn't going to be like this forever. Let's just have this one last weekend together, okay? One last time. I don't want to fight when this will be our last time together like this."

Quinn released a shaky breath. "Okay."

They turned to Santana expectantly.

Santana didn't want to be the little bitch in all this. So she shrugged dismissively, even though she wanted to protest and fucking talk about this. It was like being kicked to the curb by Brittany all over again. But this was her own goddamn fault. She didn't want it to get too serious, but here she was ready to cry because Quinn wanted to leave. She wasn't going to beg Quinn to stay. She had her pride. But she wasn't going to just miss a few rolls in the hay with Quinn-- she was going to miss the girl herself.

They spent one last weekend together, and when Santana and Rachel woke up on Sunday morning, Quinn was already gone.

\--

Things basically stayed the same. Santana and Rachel soldiered on, and to preserve their friendships, they still communicated on a daily basis with Quinn. Quinn began dating the coffee shop girl whose name was Rory, though Rachel and Santana continued to call her "Coffee Shop Girl." Things were apparently okay-- the girl was sweet-natured, but overly glib and a little dismissive about Quinn's religious beliefs. Rachel didn't think it was going to work out-- she'd joined a campus Jews for Jesus group just so she could understand Quinn's religious views as a _friend_. Coffee Shop Girl was dating Quinn and didn't seem to understand why Quinn still struggled with everything. Religious beliefs weren't particularly important to Rachel at least, not for herself, but they'd become important to her because they were important to Quinn. She didn't understand why Coffee Shop Girl didn't get that.

When Mike and Santana's admissions letters for NYADA and NYU came at the end of February, Quinn came into town so they could all celebrate together. The celebration was even more joyous because Mike and Santana both decided to enroll at NYADA.

Rachel and Santana began to spend more time with Mike, and Santana noticed the way they looked at one another. Santana generally ignored it, because it was Mike who was making googley eyes at Rachel most of the time. But it wasn't just a one-way street with those two, and Santana was a jealous sort of person, which was a surprise to no one who knew her.

\--

Santana and Rachel stayed in the city for Spring Break that year. Rachel's parents were taking another trip with Quinn's mom and Santana's parents were vacationing in Peru, so it really made no sense to go back to Ohio.

Rachel was like the fucking Energizer bunny when it came to sex and she was particularly bossy and demanding one particular night.

Santana found it hot. She loved that Rachel spoke so properly around other people, but had such a filthy mouth when they were having sex, that the Marquis de Sade would blush. Their sex life wasn't exactly kinky or anything, but Santana just wanted Rachel to go down on her, and she wasn't overly particular about how that happened or if Rachel was going to be all gussied up in leather or tied her up while she did so. Santana liked it when Rachel played with her tits, and she didn't want Rachel to, like, pee on her while doing it, so Santana was pretty happy with their sex life. They both missed Quinn, but they both agreed it must have been much harder for Quinn to be alone in a different city and only see them on the weekends. Santana didn't resent Quinn, but she did miss the sex with the blonde. Anyone who would claim that fucking two hot girls at the same time wasn't an ego boost certainly never did it. To have done it regularly for a few months made Santana feel like a goddamn stud.

Santana woke up from a dead sleep in Rachel's bed due to an incessant knocking on the front door. She and Rachel were both still naked and Rachel was practically draped over Santana like a blanket, a hand touching one of Santana's boobs. Santana gently extricated herself and grabbed an oversize t-shirt to pull over her head.

She looked in the peephole and froze. It was Brittany at the door. Santana actually contemplated not answering the door, but she doubted Brittany had anywhere else to go and New York was different from Lima. She didn't want Brittany to just wander the streets.

Sighing, Santana answered the door. The sight of Brittany still hurt, but she couldn't pretend she wasn't home.

"Hey Brit."

Brittany smiled. "Hey Santana."

Santana held the door wide open to allow Brittany to enter.

\--

Brittany stepped inside and looked around.

"It's nice," she said quietly.

"How did you know where to find me?" Santana asked flatly.

"Your brother gave me the address."

"Great."

Brittany swallowed hard at the hostility. "You didn’t come home for Spring Break."

Santana shrugged. "Didn't see the point, B."

"S. I-I wanted to tell you I met with Ms. Pillsbury the other day. I'm… I'm on track for graduating this year."

Santana smiled because she really was proud of Brittany. "That's great, Brittany," she said sincerely. "I'm proud of you."

Brittany smiled widely and Santana's heart ached. Brittany broke her heart, but Santana was still soft on the girl.

"Santana!" Rachel called out, "let's go out for breakfast, I don't feel like cooking!" she exclaimed, as she walked into the living room from the bedroom, nude. She shrieked when she saw that Santana wasn't alone, but completely froze in horror.

Purely on instinct, Brittany's eyes roamed over Rachel's naked body.

"Brit," Santana snapped. She didn't like the admiring way Brittany was eyeing Rachel. She was possessive, okay?

Brittany immediately averted her eyes.

"Boo, go put on some clothes," Santana ordered softly.

Rachel seemed to get out of her stupor. First she covered herself before she turned around and fled toward the bedroom. Halfway there, she put her hands behind her back to cover her butt and kept running.

"She has a cute butt," Brittany said softly.

Santana didn't respond, but she absolutely believed the same. Rachel had the cutest little ass Santana had ever seen. Brittany had a sweet dancer's ass, and Quinn's ass was just gorgeous. Sometimes, Santana got off on biting it just to leave a mark so it would be just a little less perfect and she could admire her handiwork. But Rachel's ass was cute as fuck. Santana could just stare at it for the rest of her life and be content.

A few minutes later, Rachel emerged from the bedroom dressed in a turtle neck, sweater, sweatpants, gloves and socks. Santana wanted to laugh at Rachel's very belated attempt at modesty. Rachel probably would have worn a burka if she had one. Her face was beet red. She hovered in the doorway, unwilling to take another step into the living room.

Santana smiled affectionately. "Come here, boo," she called out.

Rachel hesitated, but she ducked her head and ambled slowly. "Hi, Brittany," she greeted quietly. She reached them and Santana slung her arm around Rachel's shoulders and kissed Rachel's cheek.

"Hi, Rachel," Brittany said softly, eyes round. She kept looking from Rachel to Santana and back again.

Santana smirked and smacked Rachel's sweatpants-clad ass. She kissed the corner of Rachel's lips while eyeing Brittany. Rachel shifted uncomfortably and shied away from Santana. Rachel knew immediately that Santana was throwing this in Brittany's face, and while she could support that in _theory_ , experiencing it in practice and seeing the look on Brittany's face, Rachel wasn't okay with this, even with how terribly Brittany hurt Santana. The only thing preventing her from getting angry at being used was the memory of finding Santana when she came home from celebrating Thanksgiving with Quinn to find Santana drunk, morose and watching _M*A*S*H_ reruns.

"Boo," Santana said. "Brit came all this way with some big news." She looked at Brittany. "Why don't you tell Rachel the big news, B?"

She didn't know why she was doing this-- she was practically mocking Brittany, and that wasn't okay. And she was proud of Brittany for being on track towards graduation, so she didn't know why she was being such a cunt now. Sometimes she just had no control over her own mouth. It had been getting her into trouble since she was a kid.

Brittany looked like she was going to cry. "I'm on track for graduating this year," she said quietly.

Rachel smiled and pulled away from Santana. She hugged Brittany. "Congratulations, Brittany," she said kindly. "We'll have to celebrate. How long are you staying?"

"Just for a few days," Brittany said quietly.

"Planning on staying here, B?" Santana asked bluntly. She didn't wait for a response. "You can crash on the couch."

"Thanks," Brittany said quietly.

"Let's go to breakfast," Rachel suggested. "All of us."

"Sure," Santana said. "But maybe you should change clothes, boo. It's a little hot for a burka."

Rachel turned crimson, but gave a curt nod. She turned to walk away.

"Are you sleeping with her?" Brittany asked quietly once they were alone.

"Why do you care, Brittany?" Santana asked. She thought she was past this, but she was just so angry.

Brittany bit her lip. "I--nevermind, S," she said quietly.

Rachel came into the living room, this time dressed in a pale pink sundress and a white cardigan sweater she must have stolen from Quinn.

God, Santana loved spring and summer-- girls always dressed in tiny dresses, skirts and tank tops.

"Let's go," Rachel said.

\--

Breakfast was as awkward of an affair as anyone would expect. Santana discreetly texted Quinn apprising her of her situation, and she got a sympathetic "oh no" in response, but very little else. Santana fought the urge to huff and puff in annoyance. Quinn was probably going down on that Rory-Coffee-Shop-Girl while she had to endure this horrendously awkward breakfast.

Rachel was quiet through the meal-- she looked at Santana expectantly, like she was anticipating an explosion and looked at Brittany curiously, like she expected the girl to grow another head.

Santana choked down a bacon-and-asparagus frittata. Normally, she would have loved it, but she was just too uncomfortable. She avoided the coffee despite the fact she actually had a hankering for a cup, because she was jittery enough without the caffeine. She tried to concentrate on eating but she was shoveling food into her mouth so fast, she was starting to get disgusted looks from the other patrons.

"San," Rachel said, putting her hand over Santana's right hand which was grasping the fork.

Santana's hand stilled.

"No one is going to take the food away from you," Rachel teased gently. "Slow down. I don't think I could give you the Heimlich."

Santana shot her a fond smile. "'Kay, boo."

"I'd give you the Heimlich," Brittany said quietly.

"Not planning on counting on it, Brit," Santana quipped.

Rachel bit her lip and looked at both of them. "I'm going to use the restroom," she said. "Excuse me."

She got up and walked away briskly.

"Do you love her?" Brittany asked quietly.

"Of course I love her," Santana snapped. And she did. She loved Rachel. She'd die for Rachel-- the girl was one of her best friends. There was nothing she wouldn't do for Rachel. She'd crawl across the country on broken glass for her. She was insulted when anyone tried to raise doubts about how much she loved Rachel. Her love for Rachel may be a little new, but it was no less real.

"The same you loved me?" Brittany pressed, her voice wavering.

Santana's ire faltered. She'd loved Brittany since they were kids. And her love for Brittany definitely wasn't in the past tense-- the fact that she was sitting here across from Brittany wanting to jump her bones made that clear. It wasn't just lust-- she hated that hurt look on Brittany's face. She'd put that look on Brittany's face so often, she'd swore to herself she'd never do it again. But that was before Brittany broke up with her, and Santana thought it was a promise she could break to herself.

"Brit, why are you here? I'm proud of you for applying yourself and putting yourself on track towards graduation, but you could have told me that over the phone or in an email--"

"I didn't think you'd take any of my calls or read an email I send," Brittany said softly.

Santana sneered slightly. "Yeah, like you tried so hard to keep in touch, B."

They saw one another at a movie theatre that one time over winter break-- but that was four months ago. Brittany hadn't tried to contact her since. She couldn't believe the gall of Brittany to just pop up unannounced like this.

"You don't seem like you were that lonely," Brittany said flatly.

"How is that any of your business?"

"It's not," Brittany said sullenly. "I'm just pointing out that you weren't exactly lonely even if I didn't call."

"Or text or write," Santana pointed out, her voice very sharp.

"Santana," Brittany sighed tiredly.

"What?" Santana snapped, exasperated. "You dumped me, remember? You said you didn't want to be with me anymore and I didn't have a say in it. So what do you have to be bitter about?"

"Why are you being so mean to me?" Brittany asked quietly.

Santana fumed. "I don't owe you any explanations," she said. "You wouldn’t give me one when you dumped me, so I don't owe you anything."

"Just tell me," Brittany said, the words coming out more as a plea. "Are you in love with Rachel?"

Speaking of Rachel. She'd been gone for a while. There was no way Rachel was still in the bathroom. The girl was a champ in the bathroom-- she did not take long. It was gross that Santana knew that, but two people lived together in such proximity for any length of time and that was the sort of thing one found out.

"I'm going to go get her," Santana said lowly, standing up. "She's trying to give us privacy. But she doesn't need to. We're done here. You can stay with us, but we're done talking about this."

"You really did replace me," Brittany said softly, she looked near tears.

"So?" Santana growled. "You didn't want to be with me. I moved on." She started to move away, fully intending to get Rachel.

Brittany stood up, grabbing Santana by the arm. "I wanted to be with you!" Brittany shouted. It was a shock because Brittany didn't yell. Half the time, when she should be angry, she didn't realize she should be. "But I didn't want to hold you back, so I set you free," Brittany pleaded for understanding.

"Who asked you?!" Santana yelled. "Who asked you to be a fucking philanthropist, Brittany?"

The restaurant was staring at them and someone was coming over to them.

"I didn't want to be the high school girlfriend holding onto you!" Brittany yelled. "You were in a new city, you had this whole new life! You left me behind and I wanted you to be free! But I didn't want to be replaced!"

"Well, what the fuck do you think being free meant? I would have stayed faithful, Brit!"

"Oh, sure," Brittany snapped. "Because you would have stayed faithful with Rachel walking around naked! I saw the way you looked at her even back in high school!"

"I can look without touching!" Santana shouted. She would never have cheated on Brittany. Yes, she could concede that the attraction would have been inevitable living with Rachel, but it would have stayed an attraction. She wouldn't have acted on it. And the only reason Rachel walked around naked in their apartment was because they were still sleeping together. It wasn't as frequent anymore-- somehow, they worked better as a threesome than as a twosome, but they still worked. They both walked around the apartment naked and it was a testament to how close they'd become-- she wasn't going to apologize for it.

Rachel was suddenly at her side. Rachel threw down some money on the table, enough to cover breakfast and tip. She'd been planning to treat anyway, but she knew they needed to get out of here before the police were called. She picked up her purse, slung it on one shoulder and then grabbed Brittany and Santana by the arms. She only waited for them to gather their belongings before she got them the hell out of there.

\--

They walked back to the apartment in grim silence. Once they were inside, Rachel shut the front door with a quiet snick.

"I think you need to talk to one another," Rachel said lowly. "Privately, preferably." She walked away into the bedroom and shut the door.

Rachel exhaled quietly. "Fuck," she whispered. First Quinn had left her, and now it looked like Santana was going to leave her, too. It was not a secret to her that Santana still carried a torch for Brittany. She sat down on her bed and sighed. She heard what Brittany said to Santana at the restaurant-- about setting her free. It made a lot of sense to Rachel. The kindest thing Finn Hudson ever did for her was to surrender, to set her free. Brittany had set Santana free, and in the blonde's mind, that had likely been the right thing. Rachel had always suspected Brittany had done something like that, but Santana had never been really ready to hear it.

\--

Santana stared crossly at Brittany. "What do you want from me, Brittany?"

"I want you," Brittany said softly.

"You should have thought about that before you threw me out."

"I just wanted you to be happy," Brittany said quietly. "It wasn't fun for me to be left behind, you know. I knew you'd think of me and you'd hold back, but I didn't--I didn't think you'd move on."

Santana swallowed hard, because she'd always felt like if she'd just stayed in Lima, they would have made it work. _Of course_ they would have made it work. But she didn't regret leaving Lima, giving up Louisville or coming to New York.

"I'm not going to give up on us," Brittany said quietly. "I didn't want to tie you down, but I'm graduating this time. And after I do, I'm moving here. And I'm going to be with you."

"Graduation is still two months away," Santana said. "That was about how long I was here before you decided you didn't want to be with me anymore."

"I've always wanted to be with you."

"Except when you wanted to be with Mike Chang, or Artie, or basically everyone else in McKinley."

Brittany swallowed hard. "That was before we decided to be exclusive," she said quietly. "I was figuring things out back then, too, you know."

Santana sighed. "Go home, Brittany."

"I won't give up," Brittany promised.

\--

Brittany was all set to go home and Santana was ready to let her, but Rachel wouldn't hear of it. It was a long trek back to Lima, and since Brittany had taken the train, it was likely she was pretty exhausted. Santana thought it was a terrible idea, but suspected Rachel was probably doing it out of some misguided sense of etiquette and propriety.

They did a few touristy things together and it was ridiculously awkward, but not exactly unpleasant. Santana tried not to think about it.

They skipped lunch, but they got take-out for dinner. They didn't want to risk another restaurant confrontation.

They ate in front of the TV, the three of them quiet. They lingered over dinner-- the food was an easy distraction from talking and a temporary reprieve from the looming certainty of awkwardness.

Rachel collected the cartons and plates and took them into the kitchen. She disposed of the cartons and put the plates into the sink and began to wash them.

Santana ambled into the kitchen and stood behind Rachel. She set glasses into the sink and put her arms around Rachel's waist and kissed Rachel's neck. "Hey," she murmured.

"Hi," Rachel said.

"She's gonna crash on the couch," Santana said. "She agreed she'll be gone tomorrow."

Rachel rinsed her hands and turned around to face Santana. "Is that really what you want?" she asked softly.

"What?"

Rachel's smile was wry. "She came all this way for a reason. She clearly wants you back."

Santana pursed her lips. "What makes you think I want her back?"

"Do you even know how transparent you are?" Rachel asked tenderly. She tucked a strand of hair behind Santana's ear.

"What the fuck are you going on about, boo?"

"I get that you're trying to be mean and 'go all Snix' on Brittany," Rachel said, completely with air quotes. "But I know you're more than this. You're just hurt."

"Boo, I don't know where you're going with this," Santana said. Brittany was a landmine that shouldn't be disturbed. Santana was fraying just from Brittany's mere presence and Rachel even saying Brittany's name was making her irate.

"You still want her," Rachel said softly. "And for tonight, I'm okay with that," she said, grazing Santana's lips with her own. She hovered there for a while, so they were basically standing lip to lip.

"You think I still want her when I have you?" Santana muttered lowly. "When you walk around here naked?"

Rachel smiled crookedly. "Tonight, you could have us both if you wanted. I know she would be up for it."

Santana suppressed a sigh. It was true-- Brittany would likely be into it.

"Come on," Rachel said, leading Santana into the living room by the hand. She wanted to make Santana happy, and if this was a way to do it, this was what she was going to do.

Brittany was eyeing them as they walked into the living room. Rachel pulled Brittany up, and the three walked into the bedroom, to Santana's bed.

\--

Rachel pushed Santana and Brittany toward one another, urging them to kiss.

Santana and Brittany stood in front of one another and Santana suddenly felt shy. She wanted to kiss Brittany desperately, but this just felt wrong.

She figured out exactly what felt so wrong when she urged Rachel and Brittany to share a kiss--it'd been a long held fantasy of hers. It was _hot_ seeing them kiss, but neither of them seemed as into it as when they were kissing her. They were both clearly just doing this for her.

When they got into bed, it was Santana who was in the middle, who was the sole focus of attention.

She felt like the centre of the world. Rachel and Brittany--both of them touching her, kissing, licking, nipping, biting. Both of them so intent on pleasing her, both of them familiar with exactly how to do it. It didn't take long-- Brittany sucked on her clit and Santana's cry was swallowed up by Rachel's mouth on hers. She barely had a chance to catch her breath when they started on her again.

It was like Brittany was making up for lost time-- she wasn't satisfied with one or two times. Again and again, until Santana pleaded for a time-out.

Rachel and Brittany laughed gently at her as she lied flat on her back, drenched in sweat and come. Santana's hair was plastered to her face and neck. Her body was overheated and she was trying to catch her breath in harsh gasps. If she rubbed her thighs together, she'd come all over again.

Rachel and Brittany gazed at one another for a long moment with mutual respect. They leaned toward one another, hovering over Santana's prone body and shared a long kiss. One of Rachel's small naughty hands groped down and began massaging Santana's breasts. Brittany's hand wandered down to gently stroke Santana's pussy.

"Goddammit," she said, smacking both their hands away. "What are you trying to do, fuck me dry?"

Brittany and Rachel pulled away, laughing. They gazed down at Santana with affection and flopped into a laying position, both of them on their sides. Santana fell asleep first, exhausted.

"She even smirks in her sleep," Rachel commented.

Brittany stared at her. "I'm going to get her back," she said quietly. "She still loves me."

Rachel pursed her lips. "We're adults, Brittany. This isn't a competition."

"I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to be free," Brittany said, her voice trembling. "But I didn't want her to leave me behind completely."  
  
Rachel's heart panged sympathetically. "I know," she said quietly.

"What are we going to do, Rachel?"

"I don't know. Just go to sleep for a while, Brittany. We can think about it another night."

Brittany sighed. "You're smarter than I am. And nicer. So I'm just going to trust you to figure it out."

"Hmm," Rachel said. She wondered if Brittany was manipulating her by making her feel guilty. It was kind of working.

\--

Brittany was gone by the time they woke up. Santana texted her just to make sure she found her way back to the train station. Brittany made it safely, but Santana had assumed as much considering she'd been able to find her way to the apartment. Still, she had to know with certainty because with Brittany, just because she was able to find her way in one direction didn't mean she'd be able to get back the same way.

Santana kissed Rachel on the mouth. "You're fucking hot, boo," she said, once they drew apart.

Rachel chuckled lowly. "I know."

"Smug," Santana accused fondly.

"Me?" Rachel said. "You were the one smirking in your sleep last night."

Santana had the good grace to be a little embarrassed for herself, but not so much that she'd cop to it. "What can I say?" she murmured. "You make me melt, boo."

Rachel snuggled against her. She said nothing, but she didn't think she had to.


	9. Chapter 9

**Year 2019**

Quinn didn't get a chance to talk to Santana until Monday night, but she was happy when she phoned Santana up. She'd had the best weekend in a long time and she wanted to share it with her best friend. For the past few months, she'd leaned heavily on Santana, and she wanted to stop dumping all of her doom and gloom on her best friend. It must have been bringing her down.

"Thank you so much for watching the kids this weekend," Quinn said.

Santana snorted. "Will you stop it with that?" she demanded. "When have I ever passed up a chance to spend time with the kids? I hope you at least hit that," she joked.

Quinn chuckled. Santana didn't sound disrespectful, mostly just curious and supportive. "I did," she said softly.

Santana paused. She grinned. "Tell me more," she said lasciviously.

"No," Quinn said. Just because she and Rachel used to have sex with Santana did not mean she was going to give Santana the details.

"Killjoy," Santana teased.

Quinn chuckled. She sighed thoughtfully. "I can't believe it really happened," she said softly. "I-I thought she was afraid of me," Quinn said quietly. "She just seemed scared of me."

Santana swallowed hard. She'd noticed that, too. No matter how hard Rachel tried to hide it, she just seemed terrified of everyone. She'd noticed that it was getting better though, especially with Quinn. "She seemed scared of everyone, Q. Not just you."

"I know," Quinn said softly, swallowing the lump that rose in her throat. "But it still hurt to know she was afraid of me. I'd never hurt her," she said softly.

"I know, Q." She laughed quietly. "So, seriously. Was it good?"

Quinn chuckled quietly, smiling widely as she thought about her weekend. Rachel was affectionate with her all weekend. "Without going into detail, it was a lot like it used to be," Quinn said quietly.

Santana smiled, because she remembered the way Rachel kissed and touched during sex and when Rachel kissed or touched someone she loved, the person knew it. "That's great, Q," she said sincerely. She was happy for her two best friends.

"I just don't want her to be afraid of me," Quinn said quietly. "That's no way for either of us to live."

Santana decided now was the time she could push on something that she'd been avoiding bringing up with Quinn. "Q, what are you going to do if she never gets her memory back?"

"What are you getting at?" Quinn asked warily.

Santana didn't want to piss on Quinn's happiness, but she had to make sure that Rachel would be taken care of, no matter what. She loved them both equally, but Rachel was more vulnerable right now, and Quinn's statement just made her worry. "I just want to make sure that even if she doesn't get her memory back, you're going to be there for her."

" _Of course_ I will," Quinn practically shouted, appalled by the mere suggestion she could be capable of leaving her girlfriend. It was never going to happen. She couldn't believe Santana suggest something so horrendous. "She doesn't remember, but she's still Rachel!"

"Okay," Santana said softly. "Okay, just mellow out, Q. I'm just watching out for Rachel."

"I know, S. But you don't have to protect her from me. Not ever," Quinn said frostily.

"Q, I just need to make sure that even if she never gets her memory back, you aren't going to leave her and take the kids with you," Santana said quietly. This had been one of her most profound fears.

" _What_?" Quinn shouted. She was so appalled. "You think I could ever do that to her?"

"Would you?"

"NO! God, Santana!" Quinn's voice broke. She couldn't believe that one of her best friends thought she was capable of doing something so horrible to Rachel. "I love her! I would never leave her!"

"I'm sorry, Quinn," Santana said quietly. "I love you, but I just have to watch out for her more, you know? I just had to make sure you were all in."

"I _am_ all in," Quinn snapped.

"I know you are _now_ , but if she never gets her memory back--"

"What, then you're going to step in, San?" Quinn hissed. "You think you're going to take her from me? Is that what you've been waiting for? The right time to step up and steal her?"

Stung, Santana inhaled with a shaky breath. "I was just looking out for her."

There was a moment of silence and then Quinn sighed. "I know," she said quietly. And if she were being honest with herself, she knew her life would probably be easier if she did leave Rachel and take the kids. But her life would be less fulfilled and she knew her children would be unhappier. She'd been in love with Rachel since she was fifteen years old, and she couldn't imagine her life without being part of a family with her. "I love her, S."

"I know, Q," Santana placated. "She loves you, too, you know? Even if the memories don't come back, her feelings are still there. I just couldn't stand the idea that you'd walk away from her."

"I'd _never_ walk away from her," Quinn said fervently. "It would only be over between us. The only way it could be over is if she walked away from me."

"Don't say that."

"We both know that if it was ever over between us, she would be the one to walk away."

Santana couldn't deny that-- Rachel was loyal, but mercurial. Quinn was as faithful as the adage regarding death and taxes.

"She'd never walk away," Santana said finally. "She loves you."

"I'd never hurt her," Quinn whispered. "Not on purpose."

"I know, Q," Santana assured quietly.

"I just want her to know that."

"She does, Quinn," Santana said. She wished they were speaking in person and not just on the phone. "It's going to take time though. I bet that every single day she has to deal with someone new that we just take for granted. I know it hurts, but it makes sense that she's afraid of you, doesn't it? Doesn't it make more sense that she's afraid of you than if she weren't?"

"I guess so," Quinn admitted. She didn't particularly like talking about this sort of thing, but she found it helpful to get an outside perspective. She got a little hung up on the worst aspects of her life sometimes, and sometimes she needed Santana to give her a kick in the ass.

Santana chuckled. "Hey, you tapped that cute butt, Q. And I know it was her idea because you weren't going to push for anything she wasn't ready for. She really is getting better. You just need to be patient."

Quinn swallowed. "I can be patient," she said faintly.

\--

Rachel reflected on her weekend with Quinn and mused on how quickly their lives changed in an instant and how slowly they were rebuilding their lives together. It seemed so cliché to feel like sex changed anything. She was an adult, for God's sake. And yes, sex was intimate, but it wasn't supposed to be life-changing or anything. She wasn't some fifteen year old kid who required a fireplace, bearskin rug and rose petals. But she'd been intimidated by sex because she had no memory of doing it before, and Quinn was so beautiful, Rachel was afraid she wouldn't meet her expectations. Quinn was always so kind and sweet with her, Rachel was certain that even if she failed to please Quinn, Quinn would never say anything. The thought that she'd give Quinn _bad_ sex was frankly horrifying. Sex as an adult wasn't a quantity thing. She wasn't some kid who thought that even bad sex was better than no sex at all.

She was still a little insecure-- she knew Quinn had been aroused, but Rachel was honestly still questioning her performance. Rachel had no complaints about sex with Quinn-- no doubt about that. But that didn't Quinn was as satisfied.

Rachel bit her lip contemplatively. She'd need to address this if she were truly able to move forward. She wished she knew more things about Quinn. She was finding things out slowly about her girlfriend and their life together but it was almost too slowly. She knew, for instance, that religion was important to Quinn, but they haven't gone to church yet since she came out of her coma. But Quinn prayed on her knees every night and she wore a cross around her neck. Their three children had Biblical names-- even their middle names were biblical. Abigail Naomi, Sarah Grace and Benjamin Elijah. She wished she knew the story behind that. She wished she knew more about Quinn in general, but so much of the focus in the past few months had been on her and her history. Rachel wanted to know _everything_ about Quinn

\--

When Quinn arrived home that evening, everything was pretty average. The kids greeted her return home like she was a rockstar, and she basked in their adoration while she could. She knew it was only a matter of time when their shrieks of "Mommy!" would turn into indifference. Rachel had dinner ready when she came home and they got caught up on their day. They bathed the kids and put them to bed together.

It was pretty status quo. So when she and Rachel got into bed, the very last thing, Quinn expected was to have a clipboard shoved into her hands. The expression on Rachel's face was so serious and grim that for a moment, Quinn thought she was being served with divorce papers.

But when she actually looked at the clipboard, the words "Performance Evaluation" was emblazoned on the header of the first sheet of paper.

"Um, what is this, Rachel?"

"I am ascertaining your satisfaction with my…" Rachel's brave tone faltered and her mouth took on a pronounced pout that Quinn found cute more than anything else. "Sexual performance."

Initially assuming Rachel was joking, Quinn laughed. But then she saw look on Rachel's face and she quickly became somber.

"What?!" Quinn demanded. She tried to look Rachel in the eye, but her girlfriend was avoiding her gaze.

"I suspect you were silver-lining my performance to spare my feelings," Rachel said.

Rachel was using her 'fake confidence' voice. Quinn was very familiar with it, but Rachel didn't know Quinn was very familiar with it. It was strangely hilarious and comforting Rachel would still try to fool her with her fake confidence voice. She was also amused Rachel would do something like this, because it was totally a Rachel Berry thing to do.

"Rachel," Quinn said lowly. "I don't know why you think that. But I'm telling you, unequivocally, okay? I'm telling you that this weekend was _amazing_. I'm not filling this out."

Rachel pouted. "Would you at least just read it over? I was very thorough and--"

"No," Quinn said. "I'm not going to read this. I love you. I've never had any complaints about our sex life. Not ever, not now."

"But--"

"No," Quinn said. "I'm not even going to entertain this," she continued, putting the clipboard aside. She winced because she swore she saw the words "speed of tongue" on the self-made form. "You were amazing. Our weekend was amazing. And sex between the two of us has always been more than just physical. It just felt good to be together." She looked at the form again. "You don't need to improve anything," she said, slamming the clipboard on the bed again.

Rachel swallowed hard. She leaned back, away from Quinn. "I just want…" she gulped. "I want you to be happy with me," she said quietly. "I know I'm not who you chose to be with anymore, but--"

"Let's stop there," Quinn said. "You're exactly who I chose. I don't love two people-- I love you. The person you were before the accident, the person you are now, you're the same person. Even if you don't remember who you used to be, you have to trust me, deep down, you're exactly the person I fell in love with. Maybe you don't laugh at the same things you used to, maybe you don't remember what your favorite songs are or your favorite movies. But you have the same smile, the same laugh. You rub your nose on our kids' cheeks the way you did before the accident." Quinn swallowed hard. "And yes, some things are different, but a lot of things are the same, too, baby." She cleared her throat. "You kiss the same way. You…you touch me the same way. It's not about any of that, and even if it were, it'd hard to tell the difference between before and after…and I was really happy with the way things were before. And I'm happy now," Quinn said sincerely.

Rachel bit her lower lip. "Can I be honest with you?"

Quinn was wary, but she did want Rachel to be honest with her. "Of course you can."

"I spent a lot of time after I woke up thinking about how I just got thrown into this life and I had no say in it. And for a while, I did feel obliged to stay."

Quinn swallowed hard, because she'd suspected this was the case, even if it never came up in therapy. But it still hurt to hear it.

"I was ashamed of myself," Rachel admitted quietly.

"Baby, you have every right to feel that way. You didn't choose this--you were basically forced into this."

Rachel bit her lip. "But lately, I've thought about how you must have felt obliged to stay with me. That you were forced into this relationship with me, because I'm really not the person you chose either." She swallowed visibly. "I don't want you to spare my feelings if you're unhappy. I don't want you to feel obliged to tell me I'm pleasing you if I'm not."

Quinn exhaled. "I don't know how to convince you," she said quietly. "I'm happy, Rach. You're just going to have to trust me on this."

"I…" Rachel trailed off. "O-okay," she said quietly.

Quinn wasn't convinced. Rachel Berry, regardless if she had her memory or not, did not let things go so easily. "Rachel," Quinn murmured. "I've wanted to be with you since I was fifteen years old. Do you really think amnesia, which is basically a made-up soap opera ailment that I'm still about 40 percent convinced you're pretending to have just to screw with me, is going to get me to give up something I've wanted for that long? I can start counting how long I've loved you in decades now. I'm not going anywhere."

Rachel gave her a teary smile. "But I might never get my memory back."

"I don't care," Quinn said softly. "I want you to get your memory back, don't get me wrong. But I don't care if you don't-- I'm not going anywhere. That's not why I'm here, baby"

"I'm not the person you want," Rachel whispered.

" _Yes_ , you are." Quinn touched Rachel's cheek. "I don't care if I have to tell you this every day for the rest of our lives. I'm not going anywhere. You're the one I've wanted since I was fifteen."

Rachel rested her forehead against Quinn's. "I'm tired and scared _all_ the time," she admitted quietly.

Quinn sniffled, tears shining in her eyes, but not spilling over. "I know," she said quietly, cupping one side of Rachel's neck. "Of course you're scared," she breathed. She swallowed hard and thought carefully for a moment. "But I'll cover you."

Rachel smiled shyly. "I watched _RENT_ recently. I loved it."

Quinn laughed gently and ran her hand through Rachel's hair. She rubbed her nose on Rachel's cheek. "Some things never change, baby" she teased gently.

"I love you," Rachel sniffed. "But I don't want to trap you. If you…you don't want this," she said with difficulty. "I'll--I'll understand and I'll step back. Just--"

"I want this," Quinn cut in gently. "I want you. This is all I've wanted." She gave Rachel a teary smile. "Okay?"

Rachel sniffled. "Okay."

\--

They were snuggled in bed, neither of them sleeping, but not entirely awake either.

Rachel walked her ring, middle and index fingers across Quinn's collarbone. "I've been wanting to ask you this, but I was afraid of hurting you…"

"Ask me," Quinn said softly.

"How did we come up with the children's names?"

Quinn was quiet for a moment. "Why would that hurt me?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

Rachel shrugged. "Naming children is important," she murmured. "I just didn't want to remind you that I don't know something so basic and so important."

Quinn chuckled, gently. It did hurt-- it wasn't something she'd thought about yet as something Rachel didn't remember anymore. But she was happy Rachel wanted to know. "It was important to Mike and me that we named the kids from the Bible. He and I both grew up in religious homes, and you joined the Jews for Jesus group on campus for me--"

"I'm a Jew for Jesus?" Rachel asked with a squeak.

Quinn laughed loudly, but quieted down immediately. She didn't want to wake the kids. "You told me you joined because you wanted to understand why religion was important to me. I think the most important thing you learned though was that it wasn't really religion that was important to me, it was faith. And then you taught me that."

"Oh," Rachel breathed.

"I had it confused for a long time," Quinn admitted. "I really struggled with being attracted to women. I was so angry at myself for it, because I was attracted to men, too. And I felt like being attracted to men _and_ women was the biggest sin of all, because if I was attracted to men, but I was still attracted to women-- most specifically, _you_ , it was like I was choosing to be a sinner."

"Wow," Rachel said quietly. When she woke up, she was a little surprised to know she was in a committed relationship with a woman with whom she had three children, but she got over it pretty quickly.

Quinn thought about how realizing the distinction between having faith and having religion was the most difficult and important thing she'd ever learned. It set the stage for every other important thing that followed. "It took me a while to figure it out and you were there for me while I did," Quinn said quietly. "It was important to me, and I guess it just became important to you, too."

Rachel bit her lower lip in thought. "How religious was I?"

"I'm not sure," Quinn admitted. "I found a good church in New Haven and you came with me to church and we'd pray together. I could never tell if it became important to you or if it was only important to you because it was important to me. I mean, a person's relationship with God is so personal, and we didn't talk about it a lot. But when Mike and I wanted to give our kids Biblical names, you liked the idea. Mike chose Abigail. I chose Benjamin and you chose Sarah. Mike liked the story of Abigail from 1 Samuel, and it means 'father's joy,' so we went with it. And Benjamin-- well, I chose it because he was Rachel's sson in Genesis and it seemed to fit. I wanted to be sure you knew I thought he was as much yours as he was mine. It means 'born of the right hand.' You chose Sarah because apparently, you liked it that she's the only woman in the Bible whose age of death is identified."

Rachel snorted. "Are you being serious?"

"I asked you the same thing," Quinn laughed. "You liked the story of Sarah, Abraham and Isaac. But you liked that when she died, she was 127 years old. You like prime numbers. It was very involved. It also means princess, which fits."

Rachel laughed and cuddled into Quinn. "Was it a battle? Choosing names?"

Quinn chuckled. "No, it was peaceful. We all agreed on the names-- no one was unhappy or angry."

Rachel sighed softly. "I'm glad. Names are just so important."

Quinn chuckled. "Yeah."

She thought of Beth and how important it was to Puck that Beth's name followed her. She was grateful Shelby Corcoran never changed the name. She wondered how her first-born daughter was doing.

"What are you thinking about?" Rachel asked softly.

Quinn chuckled, wondering how Rachel knew. It was dark and it's not as though Rachel could see her face. But Rachel had always been pretty intuitive.

"Beth," Quinn said quietly. She realized after a moment that she'd never told Rachel about Beth. It just never seemed like a good time. In the last few months, Rachel's past was more important than her own. "My daughter-- my first one," she clarified. "I had her in high school."

Rachel was genuinely shocked. "Wha--what happened?"

"I was president of the Celibacy Club," Quinn said dryly. She laughed lowly.

Rachel was shaken, but she laughed quietly as well. "I met your parents, it must have been hard for you in high school."

"That was before my parents split up," Quinn confirmed. "When you met them, they already mellowed out a little. But when they were still together, I felt so much pressure to be their perfect kid. I already felt like this massive disappointment because I was such the ugly duckling--"

"What?" Rachel gasped-- she actually gasped. "There's no way _you_ \--"

"It was in middle school," Quinn said. "I'll tell you about it another time, but just know that I had a really bad awkward stage. I know it was a disappointment to my parents and I wanted to be perfect for them."

"I can see that you've always had a tendency to be too hard and put way too much pressure on yourself," Rachel ventured gently.

Quinn sighed. "Anyway. I was 16 and dating Finn at the time I got pregnant. But I cheated on him with Puck." She sighed again. "It was my first time." She laughed wryly. "I couldn't believe my luck."

"What happened to your baby?"

Once Rachel asked, Quinn began to fidget. The topic was both painful and dangerous.

"She's really not a baby anymore. She's almost ten. We gave her up for adoption."

"Do you know who adopted her?"

Quinn took a deep breath. "Shelby Corcoran. We knew her because…because she…she's your birth mom."

Rachel absorbed that quietly, though it stole a few breaths. She tried to wrap her mind around that-- she'd met Quinn's parents after the accident, and while Quinn's mom was nice, Quinn's father was scary. She couldn't imagine what that would have been like for Quinn at sixteen, when it seemed like she already felt insecure about her place in the world. It was obvious to Rachel that Quinn didn't feel like she'd get support from her parents. The fact that her birth mother adopted Quinn's daughter confused her, especially because she had yet to meet her.

"You must have been really scared," Rachel murmured tenderly.

"I was terrified," Quinn breathed.

Rachel wrapped her arm around Quinn. She snuggled in close. "I'm here now. I'll cover you," she promised.

Quinn's eyes welled up with tears. "I know," she said softly. Her girlfriend was always just so sweet.

"Do you get to see Beth?"

Quinn sighed. "No."

"B-but her mom is my mom. Why wouldn't my mother let you see Beth if--"

"You don't see your mother, Rach," Quinn interjected gently. "You really weren't ever on good terms with her."

"Oh," Rachel said quietly. "Why not?"

Quinn thought it was best that she give Rachel the most sanitized version of the story possible. One day she'd give Rachel the nitty gritty details. But now was not that time. "Your dads made your mother sign a contract not to contact you until you were 18. You found one another when you were fourteen, but there was no real connection."

"But how did she adopt your baby?"

Quinn sighed. "She looked like you," she said wistfully. "You guys looked so alike. I wanted to keep Beth after she was born, but I knew I would never give her the life she deserved. I wanted her to have a good life and Shelby-- that's your mom, she wanted a baby. I liked you, but I couldn't admit it. And I guess I thought the closest I could ever come to you was giving your mom my baby."

"Aw, baby," Rachel said, nuzzling Quinn's neck.

"Dumb, I know."

"It's sweet," Rachel murmured. "Do you know if Shelby is good to Beth?"

"She's great with Beth," Quinn said.

"Maybe we should find them."

"We lost touch," Quinn said regretfully. "It was in college. You were pregnant with Abby and things were complicated. I can't blame Shelby."

"Did she know I was pregnant with Abby?"

"No," Quinn said. "You really didn't want her in your life, and I respected that."

"But would you want to have a relationship with Beth?"

"Yes," Quinn whispered. "Of course. But I can't even find them, and even if I did know where they were, if Shelby won't let me have a relationship with Beth, then there's nothing I can do."

Rachel was outraged. "But that's not fair!"

Quinn chuckled, because every once in a while, ever since Rachel came out of the coma, she could sound like a little kid. "Actually, it is fair. She's Beth's mom, baby."

"Still, we should look. The world isn't that big anymore, you know."

"Maybe," Quinn said. "The last time I heard, Shelby and Beth moved to New York. They probably live in the city."

"I think this is going to be my new project," Rachel said with certainty. "I'm going to find them and then demand my mother allow you to have a relationship with your daughter."

Quinn chuckled. "We have time to figure it out. Maybe we should just concentrate on what we have for now."

"Hmm, maybe," Rachel said, but she wasn't going to let things go so easily.

\--

Rachel woke up in the middle of the night, theatrically.

One moment she was asleep, and then she was suddenly awake, eyes wide open.

Amelia bore a striking resemblance to her. She had a nearly-10 year old daughter named Beth who had a striking resemblance to Quinn. Amelia knew her fathers. They'd met when she was in high school, but later lost touch. The only thing that didn't fit was the name.

She felt sick. She was certain that Amelia was her mother.

\--

She couldn't sleep the rest of the night, but she put on a brave face in the morning when she got the kids ready for school. She kissed Quinn goodbye and told her to have a nice day. She got Abby to school and the little ones to daycare. And then she texted Amelia.

'Can we meet?'

\--

Shelby was elated when she got the text message from Rachel asking to meet. Rachel never asked her to meet-- she was always the one to initiate contact. She wondered if this meant Rachel would be more inclined to accept her as her mother. She knew she would have to admit to her deception soon, but she hoped by the time she did, Rachel would be willing to hear her out.

Shelby couldn't meet for a few hours-- she had a job, after all. But they arranged to meet at the Queen's Bakery in a few hours.

She was happy when she walked into the bakery and found Rachel already sitting at a table, a hot pot of tea already at the table.

"Hi, honey," Shelby greeted. She hugged Rachel tightly.

Rachel thought about how this woman always seemed to care for her and the children so deeply. She had no doubt in her mind that this was Shelby Corcoran, but she needed to ask, just to be sure. She didn't know why this woman would say her name was Amelia.

"Are you my mother?" Rachel asked, once Shelby sat down.

Shelby froze. "What?"

"Are you my mother?" Rachel repeated. She stared at Shelby.

Shelby swallowed visibly. She could not speak for a long moment. "Yes," she whispered. "I am."

Rachel sucked in a deep breath. She wanted to get up and storm off, but she told herself she was an adult, not a toddler chucking a tantrum. "Your name is Shelby, isn't it?" Rachel asked lowly.

"It is," Shelby admitted quietly.

"Why did you tell me your name is Amelia?"

"Amelia is my middle name," Shelby said. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "I just wanted to be a part of your life, Rachel," she admitted quietly. "When I found out about your accident, it struck me that I knew nothing about your life-- not when something good or bad happened to you. I--I…" she faltered. "I didn't want to lose my chance with you."

Rachel crossed her arms. "But why the fake name?"

"I was just so sure that if anyone told you about me, you wouldn't want to see me. I thought if we could only have a relationship before I told you the truth, I could have a chance."

"Don't you see how that made it so much worse? How do you expect me to trust you? You wanted things to be easy for _you_. How do you expect me to tell my children that you're their grandmother? Especially Abby. She's going to want to know why I didn't tell her you are her grandmother from the very start. She's five years old, and she's _smart_. Why would you make this time even more confusing for my kids? It's all been hard enough for them. And now they have to learn to call you by another name. Didn't you think about them at all?"

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Shelby apologized sincerely. "I just wanted all of you so much."

Rachel clenched her jaw, deep in thought. "I really like talking to you," she said quietly.

"I really like talking to you, too, sweetheart," Shelby ventured tenderly.

"You lied to me." Rachel sniffled. "You…" she stopped herself from speaking, because the next thing she was going to say was "you hurt me". Her therapist encouraged her to be honest with people, because as a general rule, honesty was typically preferred, and for her, honesty in communication was especially critical because, with no memory, she was at a disadvantage. But her mother hadn't been honest with her, and right now, she didn't feel brave enough to tell her mother "you hurt me." Instead, Rachel thought about Quinn and how sad she sounded last night speaking about Beth. She thought about what it would be like if she couldn't see her children, and what that would do to her. Admittedly, the maternal instinct was not, in fact, instinctual. Being told she was a mother did not make her a mother. But what turned her from a stranger with a familiar face into a mother who loved her kids was spending time with her children. Now she couldn't imagine her life without putting her children to bed or waking them up in the morning. Then she thought about how her girlfriend missed the baby she was never allowed to raise, and her heart hardened. "Why aren't you allowing Quinn to see Beth? Quinn's her mother, and you cut her out."

Shelby was startled, and she recoiled as if slapped. She was immediately defensive. "Quinn's her mother in biology, only. _I'm_ Beth's mom. I've raised her."

Rachel backpedaled, because she could absolutely understand the distinction. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "But I don't understand why you suddenly decided Quinn shouldn't be around Beth. Quinn told me last night she lost touch with you guys while we were in college. I know Quinn. There's no way she would have lost touch with you guys unless you cut her out, especially because I was pregnant with Abby around the time you lost touch with Quinn."

Shelby's jaw clenched. "What did she tell you?"

Shelby felt guilty about cutting Quinn out, but Quinn seemed unstable then. If she'd known that Rachel was pregnant at the time, maybe she would have been more patient. But she'd had no other choice.

"Not much," Rachel admitted. "We were in bed last night when we were talking about it."

"Well, I don't want to cause problems for you and Quinn," Shelby said. "But I had to do what I needed to do to protect my daughter. Quinn was behaving in a manner that was very unstable at the time. She was a danger to Beth."

"I don't believe that," Rachel snapped. "I know Quinn. She would never--"

"Honey, I don't want to argue," Shelby said pleadingly.

"Well, do you expect me to sit quietly while you malign Quinn? She's the mother of my children! How can you expect me to sit quietly while you call her unstable and a danger to children? If she was around Abby, do you really think she would have been a danger to Beth?"

"Rachel, sweetheart. I don't want to argue," Shelby said earnestly. "Please, baby--"

"No," Rachel said flatly. "I can't listen to this. I won't. If you want a relationship with me or my children, you let Quinn have a relationship with Beth."

"Rachel--"

"No," Rachel said hotly. "I'm not dropping this. Quinn deserves to have a relationship with Beth. If you want a relationship with me, then I'm going to have one with Beth. And that means that Beth is going to have a relationship with Quinn. There's no way around it, and if you're going to impede a relationship between Quinn and Beth, then we need to stop now. I've lived all this time without a mother, and I don't know anything about our history together. I'll be fine without you," Rachel said, her voice wavering slightly, because in actuality, even if Shelby had lied to her about who she really was, it had been nice getting to know her. It was going to be hard to be without her, but Quinn took precedence. She would never choose a mother she barely knew over a girlfriend who'd proven herself to her time and time again over the last few months. She swallowed hard. What did it matter if she didn't have a relationship with her mother? She wasn't even sure if she knew the real person, if Shelby lied about something as basic as her name. "You lied to me anyway. It's not like we really know each other."

"Honey," Shelby uttered desperately. "I lied to you about my relationship to you, but I didn't lie about who I am. I was real with you about that. And I do want a relationship with you."

"Quinn isn't dangerous to Beth," Rachel said stiffly. "Do you really think I would allow my children to be around someone dangerous? If she isn't a danger to our children, she isn't going to be a danger to Beth."

"Okay, honey," Shelby soothed. "Okay."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise," Shelby said. She knew Rachel had a point-- if she was going to have a relationship with Rachel and the kids, then she'd need to allow Quinn and Beth to have one together.

Rachel gave her a small smile. "Okay," she said calming down. She could forgive Shelby for lying to her about who she really was. But she wouldn't have been able to forgive Shelby for continuing to deny Quinn a relationship with Beth. She wasn't going to allow someone to hurt her girlfriend. Screwing with her was one thing, screwing with her girlfriend was unforgivable.

Through unspoken uneasy agreement, they moved past the topic for the time being. Rachel would need to talk to Quinn about this, and Rachel knew her girlfriend would understandably be outraged when she found out how Shelby lied about who she was. Rachel hoped Quinn would be able to move past her outrage to build a relationship with Beth.

\--

Santana knew Rachel's patterns pretty well, so when she ended filming early one day, she decided to stop in on Rachel. She wasn't checking up on her-- even though she struggled for the first few months after the coma, it was closing in on five months since Rachel came out of the coma and Rachel was getting exponentially better. Santana simply wanted to spend more time with Rachel. She thought she could have some time alone with her friend and then they could pick up the children from daycare together. She wanted to see the kids anyway.

She stopped in the Queen's Bakery to pick up some cookies for the kids and an earl grey latte for Rachel. It was the best bakery in proximity to Rachel and Quinn's apartment, and the kids loved the sugar cookies there.

She didn't expect to see Rachel there, but she wasn't exactly surprised either. She grinned and was ready to say 'hey,' but froze when she saw who Rachel was sitting with.

Shelby Corcoran.

'Shit,' Santana thought. Fabray was going to freak the fuck out when she heard about this.

"Rachel," Santana said, when she got to the table. "Hi," she said softly.

Rachel brightened instantly. "Santana!"

"Hello, Santana," Shelby said. She looked and felt terrified.

"You two know each other?" Rachel asked with a happy smile. She looked delighted. "I thought you said you didn't know Amelia." It took her a moment to correct herself. "I mean, Shelby." She just felt a little safer somehow knowing that Santana knew Shelby, too.

Santana forced a smile. Quinn was _really_ going to freak out when she heard about this.

"We do," Santana said, feigning calm. "Small world, huh?"

"Yeah," Rachel agreed.

Santana felt Rachel's small hand grab hers and pull gently until Santana sat down.

"So, Shelby," Santana said, glaring at the women. "I probably would have known we knew one another if Rachel wasn't referring to you as Amelia. Care to expound on that?"

Shelby's cheeks enflamed. "I--"

"We settled that," Rachel interrupted. "Really, Santana, it's okay."

Santana was so furious, she thought she could have an aneurysm. If bad thoughts could kill, she would have dropped dead by now. Especially now.

"It's not fucking okay, boo," Santana hissed. "She was telling you she was someone else. You've been talking about her for a couple months now, and every time Quinn or I wanted to meet her, she was conveniently busy. That doesn't exactly inspire my fucking confidence!"

Rachel began to rub the back of Santana's neck.

Santana sucked in a deep breath because she still found that so soothing when Rachel did that, but this was the first time since the accident Rachel had done so.

"Boo," Rachel entreated. "It's honestly okay."

Santana's eyes narrowed, because no, it was not fucking okay. Not even if Rachel added an 'honestly' to it.

"I want to talk to you, alone," Santana told Shelby flatly. Before this, she didn't have very strong feelings about Shelby. She didn't like the way she treated two of her best friends, but Shelby was good to her when she was the advisor for the Troubletones, so she'd had a modicum of loyalty and affection because of it. But the thought that Shelby would take advantage of Rachel while Rachel was fucking brain-damaged and so vulnerable was unforgivable.

"Boo--"

"It's okay, honey," Shelby said gently, patting Rachel's cheek.

Santana was outraged by the familiarity, but she didn't want to upset Rachel, so she pushed it down.

Santana and Shelby stood up and walked outside. They walked far enough to be out of the bakery's field of vision.

Once Santana knew Rachel couldn't be see them, she allowed her rage to bubble up.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Santana snarled. She barely controlled herself from shoving Shelby against a wall and beating her senseless. "You're taking advantage of my friend when she's vulnerable. Is that what you did? You found out about the accident? Sought her out because you knew she's vulnerable? That way you could keep Fabray's kid for yourself and still have Rachel and the kids? You fucking bitch. I should kill you right here."

Shelby's eyes were teary. "It wasn't like that," she whispered. "I ran into Rachel and the kids here a couple months ago."

"And you told her that your name was Amelia," Santana sneered. "When did you come clean?"

Shelby's eyes averted guiltily.

"You didn't, did you?" Santana said gruffly. "Did you get caught?"

"I don't know how or why she put it together," Shelby said quietly. "But she asked to meet me today-- it was unusual for her, I've always initiated the contact. And then she asked me if I was her mother. Something must have triggered her." She looked hopeful. "Maybe she remembered me?"

Santana tried not to get too hopeful, because unfortunately, the likelihood of Rachel remembering was pretty minimal. "You stay away from her, you get me?" Santana said lowly. "The only reason I'm not beating you to death right here is because I don't need the bad publicity or the jail time. But if you ever come near Rachel or the kids again, I will end you. I know people."

"She's my daughter. They're my grandchildren," Shelby said softly.

"Yeah? And where have you been all this time? You don't get to choose when you're a mom and when you're a grandparent."

"Santana. I'm trying here. Please--"

"I will make sure that Rach and Quinn file a restraining order against you."

"Santana, I'm not trying to hurt anyone. I just want to be a part of their lives."

"You weren't around for all the bad parts. You don't get to be around for the good stuff. You've never been a mom to Rachel and you don't get to be one now, just because she doesn't have all the baggage of remembering how shitty you were to her."

Shelby swallowed hard. "I'm not going anywhere."

"It's not up to you," Santana sneered. "You're going to go inside, get your stuff and tell Rachel you need to go. And then you're going to stay the fuck away from my friends. They're my family, not _yours_ and I guess _you_ wouldn't know anything about this, but you do for family. And I have to protect mine from you."

"This isn't going to be over."

"It's over tonight," Santana said flatly. "Get your shit and go." She began to shove Shelby toward the entrance of the bakery.

The sooner this was over, the sooner her blood pressure would come down. Shelby protested, but Santana managed to get her inside.

"Boo, Shelby needs to leave. I'll go with you to pick up the kids, okay?"

Rachel looked at them warily for a long moment. Both Shelby and Santana shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. "I suspect something happened," she said. "But I'm willing to let it go for today because I want to pick up my kids. But this isn't over."

'Yes, it is,' Santana thought.

Shelby gathered her belongings and hesitantly hugged Rachel. "I'll talk to you soon, honey."

"Okay."

Santana looked at Shelby murderously.

Not if she could help it.  
\--

Santana was fuming as she and Rachel walked to the daycare in silence. They were almost there when Rachel finally spoke.

"Are you cross with me?" she whispered.

That stopped Santana in her tracks. "What? No, of course not!"

"You seem very angry," Rachel countered.

"I am," Santana said. "I'm fucking fucked off. But not at you. At her."

"My mom?"

"Rachel…" Santana sighed. "She gave birth to you, but she's done nothing else for you. She was a surrogate mother, just remember that."

"She's been nice to me though. I know she lied to me about who she really was, but it's been nice to get to know her."

"She said she ran into you and the kids at the bakery a couple months ago. Is that true?" Santana remembered Rachel asked her about a woman named Amelia, but she didn't remember the details anymore.

"Yes," Rachel confirmed instantly.

"But she told you her name was Amelia."

"Yes," Rachel said softly.

"When did she tell you she was lying?"

"She never really did," Rachel fidgeted. "But Quinn told me about Beth for the first time last night. And I woke up in the middle of the night and I just put everything together. I just knew."

"I told her to stay the fuck away from you and the kids, so I don't think she'll be a problem anymore."

"I don't want that!" Rachel said. "Quinn wants a relationship with Beth, and this is the best way to give her that. I'm not going to ruin that for Quinn."

Santana had a sudden flashback to college, of Rachel sobbing that she couldn't get an abortion, because Quinn would hate her if she did. Santana clenched her fists, because while she understood where Rachel was coming from, she didn't want Rachel to keep Shelby around in her life for Quinn's sake. If Rachel wanted a relationship with Shelby, that was one thing. But having a relationship with Shelby so Quinn could have one with Beth was another.

"Rachel, you can't have a relationship with Shelby just so Quinn could have one with Beth."

"She's my mother. I want to get to know her, for my own sake, too," Rachel said defensively.

Santana sighed. "Okay." She'd drop this for now, because it was going to come up when they told Quinn later anyway.

\--

Santana's ire washed away when Abby, Ben and Sarah ran to her like she was a fucking rockstar when she and Rachel picked them up. She got some paparazzi coverage because her show was gaining popularity, and she kind of liked it because it made her feel like she'd made it. But that was nothing compared to the kids greeting her like she was some kind of hero superstar.

\--

Things were a little tense while they were back at Rachel and Quinn's apartment waiting for the blonde to get home. It was a late night on set for Quinn, and so the children were already in bed when she came home.

"Hey, San," Quinn greeted. She was a little surprised to see her friend, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

"Hey, Q."

Quinn had known Santana long enough to know when there was something wrong.

Rachel looked nervous, which put Quinn even further on edge.

"Is there something wrong with the kids?"

"No, no, the kids are fine," Rachel assured.

"I'm just going to…" Quinn trailed off and gestured toward the children's bedrooms. She missed her kids all day and she just needed to see for herself.

Quinn stopped in at the girls' bedrooms first and gazed for a long moment at her daughters while they slept. They looked peaceful. She sighed quietly and checked in on Ben next. He looked perfectly fine. She watched him and couldn't help chuckle when he farted in his sleep. He was just fine, too. She was going to have to get over her instinct to panic whenever she got the slightest inkling something was wrong.

She walked back to the living room where Santana and Rachel were waiting. Rachel was seated on one of the coaches. Santana stood in front of the fireplace, arms crossed in front of herself. She sat down next to Rachel and knocked her knee against Rachel's. "What's going on, Rach?"

Rachel bit her lip. "I found Shelby," she said quietly.

Quinn blinked. "So quickly?"

"Well, actually, she sort of found me," Rachel amended.

Santana hmphed and Quinn shot her a questioning look, but Quinn thought how it made sense that Shelby would find Rachel, because Shelby always had a way of doing that.

"Do you remember that woman Amelia I told you about? We met at the Queen's Bakery and she knew my dads?"

"Yeah…" Quinn said slowly.

Quinn sat quietly while Rachel haltingly explained just who Amelia turned out to be, and just how Rachel came to that sudden realization last night. Quinn wished Rachel would have told her this morning before she left for work, but she thought perhaps Rachel felt the need to do this for herself. She just didn't want Rachel seeing Shelby alone-- she didn't trust the other woman. Not with Rachel.

Anger brewed and simmered with Quinn, but she did her best to keep her face impassive. Her hands clenched into fists as Rachel continued to tell her everything, including the part about negotiating a relationship with Beth for Shelby's relationship with them. Quinn was furious-- she loved Beth and wanted to see her. But she did not want to see Beth by allowing her children to see Shelby. She seethed quietly.

Rachel swallowed hard and took one of Quinn's hands in hers and gently pried Quinn's fingers from being clenched into a fist. "Please don't be angry," she pleaded, as she did the same for Quinn's other hand.

"I'm not angry," Quinn said hoarsely. "Not at you."

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Rachel asked. "You can see Beth now and make sure she's okay--"

"You've seen Beth, right?" Quinn asked, trying her best to moderate her voice.

"Yes," Rachel said. "A few times."

"How did she look?"

"She's _beautiful_ ," Rachel said. "She looks just like you. And she's wonderful. She's incredibly bright and…polite and sweet. She's…she's a lot like you, Quinn."

Quinn's eyes welled up and she blinked them back, trying her best to control herself. She took a deep breath. "Really?" she asked, but she winced when her voice cracked. She couldn't believe she was hearing about Beth.

" _Yes,_ ," Rachel assured. Tentatively, she reached up to wipe at Quinn's eyes. Her girlfriend always tried to be so strong.

Quinn sniffed. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay. Thanks." She took a deep breath. "I--I don't want you to have a relationship with Shelby if you don't want to, just because I want one with Beth."

"She's--she's my mother. And she seems to care for me. E-even if you say we weren't on good terms before, I think we could be on good terms now. I'd-I'd like to have a relationship with her, but only if-if you’re okay with it. I…I would never choose someone over you."

Quinn swallowed hard. "I want you to have what you want," she said quietly. "But I want to speak with her privately first. I know who she used to be-- better than you," she added gently. "I just want to make sure she has good intentions."

"Of--of course," Rachel stammered. "I trust you."

"Okay," Quinn sighed.

"I-- I'm going to call her and let her know. Is that okay with you?" Rachel asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, sure," Quinn sniffed. She gave Rachel a teary smile.

Rachel left the room. Santana exhaled and her shoulders slumped. She walked to the sofa and sat down. She put her arm around Quinn, who leaned into Santana. She rested her head on Santana's shoulder. Their hands reached for one another.

"What are we going to do about this?" Santana asked quietly. She didn't think Quinn would just leave it at that. She knew Quinn Fabray, and Quinn Fabray wouldn't let something like that stand.

"We're not going to do anything," Quinn said softly. "I _hate_ her, San. But I want Rachel to have a mom, if that's what she wants."

"We'll keep an eye on that though, right?" Santana murmured.

Quinn's eyes hardened. "Yeah."

\--

Quinn got Shelby's contact information from Rachel and arranged for a meeting time in two days. Shelby sounded nervous when Quinn spoke to her, which was a good thing in Quinn's estimation. They met at a Starbucks after Quinn was finished on set. It wasn't very late, but Quinn was irritated because she was missing dinner with her girlfriend and kids to deal with this.

Shelby still looked good and Quinn had an idea of what Rachel would look like in another twenty-two years. The first thing Quinn thought about was how this was the woman who was raising Beth, and as much as she wanted to lash out at Shelby for lying to Rachel, she needed to be respectful because this was Beth's mother. She didn't like Shelby Corcoran, but she respected Beth's mom.

"Hello, Quinn," Shelby greeted.

"Hello."

\--

Quinn didn't want to mince words, so she got right down to it.

"Why did you lie to Rachel?" Quinn asked flatly. "You knew she was vulnerable and instead of telling her the truth about who you are, you lied to her."

Shelby swallowed hard. "I ran into her and the kids at the bakery," she said quietly. "She was going to walk past me and I thought--" she swallowed. "I thought she was just being cold. But she truly didn't recognize me. I thought if I told her who I was, she would tell others about me and they would tell her about our history before I could do damage control."

"Why didn't you just tell her about your history that day?"

Shelby scoffed. "How could I hurt her like that on the first day we met again?"

Quinn clenched her jaw. "I didn't tell her about you, you know. She never asked me about you, not when she first came out of the coma and had all these questions about her life. Once she met her fathers and we told her that you were just a surrogate, she never once questioned it. I deliberately withheld it from her because I didn't want to hurt or overwhelm her. I was waiting for a time when she was a little stronger to tell her about you." Her face hardened. "But you ruined that."

Shelby swallowed with difficulty. "I haven't talked to her since…" she trailed off. "Is she all right?" she asked. "What happened? Did she have a setback?"

Quinn softened, because she knew what it felt like to worry about Rachel. "She's fine," Quinn said gruffly. "She wants a relationship with you. And she wants you to have one with our kids." Quinn's lips pursed. "I'm not on board yet with that. And she said it was up to me. So, convince me why I should let you back into her life when you've done nothing but hurt and lie to her. And tell me why the hell I should let you around my kids when I know for a fact that you're unreliable."

"I love them, Quinn," Shelby said softly. "I've always regretted walking away from Rachel, but I never knew how to fix things. I saw an opportunity to fix it, and I know I did it the wrong way, but I couldn't let it slip me by."

"It's always about you, isn't it? Even when she's hurt and lost, it's just about you. Did you even stop to consider maybe she was better off without you in her life?"

"She's my daughter," Shelby said softly. "I wanted to be a part of her life."

"You just gave birth to her. That's it. You've done nothing else for her."

"I know."

"She's amazing," Quinn informed. "And you had nothing to do with it."

"I know," Shelby said quietly.

"If you abandon her again, that's it," Quinn said quietly. "That will be your third strike as far as I'm concerned. And we have kids now. If you come into their lives, then you're here to stay. But if you leave, then you stay gone. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Shelby said softly. She paused for a long moment as they just stared at one another. Finally, she reached into her purse to pull out a white envelope. She passed it to Quinn. "Some pictures of Beth," she said. "I thought you might like to have them."

"Thanks," Quinn whispered. She took the envelope and clutched it in her hands.

"Quinn, I'm very sorry about what happened between us. I shouldn't have cut you out of Beth's life."

Quinn bit her lip, because in that aspect, she really couldn't blame Shelby. She probably would have done the same. "It's okay. I know I was…crazy back then." She swallowed hard. She'd been really unstable for a while-- they all went a little crazy for a bit.

"What was going on?" Shelby asked gently.

Quinn forced a smile. "It's complicated," she answered. When she looked back on that time, she still wanted to cry. But they managed to weather through it all. "I should go," she said quietly, tucking the precious envelope of Beth's pictures into her purse. She'd look at it when she was alone.

"Beth and I will see you soon, Quinn," Shelby said quietly.

 

"Okay."

 


	10. Chapter 10

_Trigger warning chapter_

* * *

 

**Year 2013**

Santana woke up in the middle of the night and pulled away from the warm body she was spooning. She pressed a kiss to Brittany's neck, but pulled further away and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. She missed Rachel frequently. They still lived together, but ever since Brittany moved into the city after she graduated from McKinley, Santana spent a lot of time apart from Rachel.

She'd been in love with Brittany for as long as she understood exactly what sexual attraction and love were. With Brittany in the city, Santana just couldn't walk away. But she didn't want to leave Rachel behind, either. If it'd been up to her, they'd probably all still be in hellish limbo.

But it was Rachel who bowed out gracefully. "Do you remember what I once told you?" she'd asked tenderly. "I told you that I just had this feeling that you and Brittany will be together in the end. I don't want to hold you back."

It should have been easy-- stop sleeping with Rachel, start sleeping with Brittany again. And it seemed like Brittany thought it would be that easy, though she did want Santana to sleep over at her place rather than sleeping at Santana and Rachel's. It was possible that Brittany only wanted Santana to sleep over because Santana still shared a bedroom with Rachel and didn't want things to be awkward. But it was also possible she was jealous.

Santana wasn't sure, but it wasn't easy to just walk away from Rachel. It was easy enough to stop sleeping with Rachel-- Santana missed the sex, but she missed the girl more. She'd fallen in love with Rachel and there was just no way to forget about that. She still missed Quinn, too, and she wondered when the hell things got to be so complicated.

She'd thought coming out of the closet was hard. She never imagined she could leave her small hometown, be with Brittany in every way she desired and still want more. She'd always wanted so much in life, but she never thought she was this greedy.

She got out of bed, grabbed her phone off the nightstand and padded into the living room. She took a chance and texted Rachel. Rachel would probably bitch her out if she woke her up. But she probably wouldn't really mind.

**From Santana:**

**Hey, u awake?**

Seconds later, Santana's phone rang.

"Would it really be so time-consuming to add the 'y' and 'o' before the 'u'?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Hey, boo."

"Hey," Rachel drawled.

"Did I wake you?"

"No, I couldn't sleep."

"Anything wrong?"

"I suppose I miss your mouth-breathing."

"Hey!"

Rachel giggled. "I just miss you," she admitted. "I got used to your breathing and now I miss it. It's harder to fall asleep without you."

"Sorry, boo," Santana said softly, guiltily.

"It's not your fault, boo."

"I'll come home tomorrow," Santana promised.

"You mean tonight?" Rachel teased. "It's three am."

"God, you're persnickety. It's annoying."

Rachel laughed. "What's up, boo? You don't usually call me at three am, as we both know."

"I guess I missed you, and _your_ mouth-breathing," Santana admitted.

Rachel chuckled. "We should call Quinn, too. If you woke me up, you should have no problem waking her."

"It's summer time, bitch. Of course I don't have a problem waking her."

"Wait, she could be with Coffee Shop Girl."

"Fuck Coffee Shop Girl."

"I can see you feel strongly about this, Santana, so I certainly would not dissuade you."

They'd met Rory aka Coffee Shop Girl, and while she was very darling in terms of appearance, neither Rachel nor Santana were particularly enthusiastic about her personality. They both had their theories about why that china-doll-faced bitch appealed to Quinn so much, but Rachel thought it was because Coffee Shop Girl was refreshingly (and bafflingly) absent of angst, which would certainly appeal to someone with a tendency to be sad like Quinn. Santana thought it was because Coffee Shop Girl spoke like she was on a continuous intravenous drip of coffee, and had pretty nice tits for someone so skinny. In actuality, they were both right.

Santana snorted and put Rachel on hold to call Quinn.

Quinn answered right away. "San? What's wrong?"

"Don't be so paranoid. Rach and I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Oh," Quinn said. She sounded pleased.

"Hold on, I'm going to merge the calls."

"Okay."

"Hi Quinn!" Rachel greeted excitedly.

"Hey, you," Quinn replied warmly. "What's with the two phones?"

"I'm at Brit's," Santana informed.

"Oh."

"How are you, Quinn?" Rachel asked.

"I'm fine," Quinn drawled.

"You with Coffee Shop Girl?"

"She's at her mom's. They're having a sleepover."

"Her _mom's_?" Santana repeated.

"Rory and her mom are really close. It's honestly a little weird."

"Have you met her mother yet?" Rachel asked.

"No," Quinn said. "We're really more friends than anything else. She's not really who I thought she was, but I'm not ready to give up on it, either."

Rachel laughed affectionately, Santana snorted in derision. Each thought how that was just like Quinn.

"Well," Rachel said. "I hope she's at least good company."

 _I hope you aren’t lonely_ remained unspoken, but they all knew it was there.

"I'm good, Rach," Quinn said softly.

"But is _she_ good?" Rachel pressed.

Quinn laughed. "She's fine."

It wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, but it was sufficient.

Santana was happy to be back together with Brittany, but it was bittersweet. Sometimes, (a lot of times), she longed for the days when she spent her weekends with Quinn and Rachel. It was simple and easy back then. She didn't think it was that easy or simple when she was actually doing it, but now, in comparison, it was like basic arithmetic-- herself + Rachel + Quinn= joy and hot sex. Sometimes, she wished it could have stayed that way, but she'd once said that she and Brittany would always be in love, and she'd meant it. She loved and missed Rachel and Quinn, but Brittany was the girl she couldn't imagine living without. It was difficult to be without Rachel and Quinn, but she didn't think she could survive being in the same city as Brittany and not being with her.

\--

The months went on, and Quinn ended things with that Coffee Shop Girl. They were better friends, apparently. It wasn't a shock to anyone-- Quinn demanded more in a relationship than a good latte and witty repartee. It could take a person pretty far, but not that far. Santana did her best to put her relationship with Brittany back together while Rachel did her best to move on without the two most important people in her life. Quinn continued on at Yale-- she was so incredibly glad that she'd gotten in, that she had the chance to get out of Lima. There were times when she wished she'd gone to a school in New York, mostly so she could be with Rachel and Santana. But most of the time, she was glad she was doing this for herself.

She and Rachel talked about the possibility of getting back together, but long-distance was honestly too difficult. Even if they were only a train ride away, it was just too hard to know that they wouldn't be able to see one another when they wanted-- they would be at the mercy of increasingly busy schedules.

Santana and Mike Chang both enrolled in NYADA as freshman, both of them happy that they'd given up their initial college plans for this new path. And of course, Rachel, who'd always been nearly a year younger than most of her peers, was tickled that she was the upperclassman to Mike and Santana's freshman.

\--

Sometimes, Rachel still found it hard to believe that she was in her second year at NYADA and that she was living her New York dream. Her life wasn't perfect, but it was good.

With her relationships with both Quinn and Santana over, Rachel was just trying to focus on herself and her Broadway dreams. She was going to keep her head down and her mind and heart clear of romantic entanglements.

Thus far, it was proving to be a good thing. She was doing well in all her classes, although it was only a few months into the fall semester. Sophomore albums were never as good as the debut, but Rachel was hoping she could buck that famous tradition. She didn't have that horrible harpy of a professor, Cassandra July as a professor until the next semester, so at least the first half of her sophomore year would be pleasant. She was making new friends and she was getting to know old friends better-- Mike Chang was becoming one of her closest friends. She and Santana were still living together, but they saw one another less now because Santana spent most of her time with Brittany. She was happy that Mike and Santana were at NYADA with her now, but she felt sorry for them that they had to endure Cassandra July's freshman dance class--at least they had one another. She knew Mike and Santana watched out for one another in that class.

Rachel saw Santana all the time-- both around campus and at home, but it still wasn't the same. She wished that when things were good, they could stay good, and that change wasn't one of the few constants in life.

\--

Santana knew for a fact that Mike had a crush on Rachel, and had been harboring one for a while, but she thought he'd just keep it under wraps. She didn't think he'd make it known to anyone, but when Cassandra July kept them after class to ask about "Schwimmer's whereabouts," he _completely_ lost it and began screaming at the older woman.

Santana hated Cassandra July for the mindfucks she'd put over on Rachel during her freshman year, but she was trying to keep a low profile with Cassandra while she was in the blonde harpy's class. Still, hearing Cassandra ask about Rachel and refer to her as "Schwimmer" made Santana remember how Rachel thought she was too fat the entire time she was in Ms. July's class. Then she remembered how she once came upon the professor basically molesting her best friend and felt angry all over again. Still, she'd been able to keep a lid on her outrage, so she was surprised that it was mellow Mike who lost it.

She had to drag him out of the classroom while he raged at their professor for being a jealous, alcoholic, insane hasbeen. Mike was the nicest guy Santana knew, and she had no idea he was even capable of a mean thought, let alone expressing it. Once it happened, and Cassandra began sniping back, Santana had to step up, too. Her fury at this woman built up and she just let loose. But she still managed to gain some semblance of control before Chang. It ended with Cassandra banning them for her class for the next two weeks. Santana had to pull Mike from the classroom, still raging at Cassandra.

He calmed down almost instantly after they left the studio. With her hands on him, he wasn't struggling, but he was breathing heavily and his face was red. She'd never seen him angry, she wasn't afraid of him. She actually liked him a little more knowing he had a temper.

"Dude, Chang," Santana said, "Calm your nuts. Why are you so upset?"

He gave her a look. "You heard what she said about Rachel!"

"Cassandra July is a bitch with a ladyboner for Rachel. That's it. She could try to kick you out of school for screaming at her like that."

"Well, we should get her fired for terrorizing Rachel."

He had a point, so she didn't respond to that. Instead, she hooked her arm into his. "Let's go back to my place. Rachel will probably be there and we can order in. I've been at Brit's all week, so it'll be good to sleep in my own bed."

He gave her a small smile. "Okay."

\--

Rachel was furious with them when they got home.

"Cassandra July called me," she said, when they entered the apartment. Her voice was flat. "She said you guys went crazy on her and were kicking and throwing things and screaming at her."

Mike and Santana stared incredulously at one another, because no, not once had either of them kicked or thrown anything. They both yelled, but that was it.

"Now I have to meet with her tomorrow to beg her not to kick you guys out of school!"

"Boo, she's a liar," Santana said.

Rachel stared at her skeptically. "Well, _something_ happened!"

"She called you Schwimmer," Mike said.

"She always calls me that."

"Well, it's not okay," Mike said. "And I told her that. Loudly."

"She already hates me, she didn't have to hate you guys, too. What were you guys thinking?"

"I yelled. Santana was calm. I don't know why she's trying to screw Santana over, too, when I was the one who yelled."

Santana sighed. "No, I yelled, too. Mike's just trying to get my back. If you’re going to be mad, just be mad at both of us."

Rachel sighed. "I am grateful that you guys have my back, but I don't want you to be on her radar now, too. She's going to make your lives difficult the way she did to me."

"Let her," Santana said. "It wasn't okay that she asked us about you. You don't even have her as a teacher this semester. How is that appropriate?"

Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes, and now I have to meet with her tomorrow at her office so I can explain why my friends were so insane."

Rachel couldn't believe Cassandra even knew that Santana and Mike were her friends. But then again, both Santana and Mike had waited for her after class last year, so maybe Cassandra just remembered their faces.

"You aren't meeting her," Mike said.

"No way, boo."

"I have to," Rachel said strongly. "She said she was going to recommend to expel you guys if I don't!"

"She can't do that, boo."

"Well, she did, and who do you think has more power at that school?"

"You aren't going!"

"Yes, I am!"

"Well, you aren't going alone," Mike said flatly.

"She said if I brought you guys with me, she'd kick you both out for sure," Rachel said. "Why couldn't you guys just ignore her? You both knew she hated me!"

"Because she's _horrible_ ," Mike said. "I hated her when you were in her class and I hate her now."

"She's a bitch!" Santana chimed in.

"Stop it!" Rachel said. "You aren't telling me anything about her I don't already know. But she's still a professor and we have to graduate and we can't make it harder on ourselves! Please, just…ignore her. Whatever she says about me, please just ignore her."

Mike's jaw clenched. "Rachel--"

"Mike, please," she pleaded, putting her hand on his chest.

He took a deep breath. He was silent.

"Please, Mike," she pressed.

"Okay," he said finally.

Rachel looked at Santana pleadingly, eyes wide. She looked like a fucking pixie with those bangs and that tiny pout. "Boo?"

Santana sighed. "Okay."

\--

Rachel was exactly the sort of person to carry a grudge, but she really couldn't harbor a grudge against two friends who were willing to step up to some harpy of a professor on her behalf. She just enjoyed the night-- dinner and Netflix. Rachel really couldn't ask for much more.

Santana hadn't been home all week, so it was nice when Rachel went to bed that Santana was in the other bed. She'd missed Santana's light snoring. Even though Mike lived nearby, it was so late when they finished with their dinner and movie marathon, that Rachel didn't want to send him home. They slept in her bed, his arms around her.  
\--

She woke up early the next morning and went to NYADA to get in some time in one of the practice rooms. The acoustics were perfect, and she was going to record herself, so she'd know what she'd need to work on. If she'd practiced at home, she would have woken up Santana and Mike. Mike was grumpy when he woke up tired, but Santana was an absolute _bear_ , so Rachel thought going to NYADA was the better (and safer) option all around.

She got a text at 11am, when she was getting ready to meet Cassandra July at her office. At first, Rachel thought maybe Cassandra was canceling, but instead, she was only changing the venue-- Cassandra's apartment instead of her office.

Rachel sighed. The things she did for love.

\--

Cassandra answered the door wearing a black tanktop with extremely thin shoulder straps that perfectly set off her admittedly stunning arms. She was holding a beer in one hand. She had one arm balanced on the door frame and gave a smirk when she saw Rachel standing there, but she didn't say anything.

"Um, hi," Rachel said. She couldn't help stare at Cassandra's arms-- she hated to admit it, but they looked absolutely delicious.

Cassandra didn't say anything. She stepped backward to allow Rachel to enter. She shut the door when Rachel passed her into the apartment.

Rachel bit her lip when she realized Cassandra smelled like a brewery. She wasn't certain if Cassandra was drunk, but she was certainly buzzed.

Cassandra held out the beer bottle she was drinking from and looked at Rachel expectantly.

"No, thanks," Rachel said softly. "It's a little early."

Cassandra's eyes narrowed and hardened. "What're you trying to say?"

"I-I…I just meant it was a little early for me," Rachel stammered.

"It's just a little hair of the dog," Cassandra snapped, taking a long pull of the beverage.

"Okay, I'm not trying to pass judgment," Rachel placated. "I-I just came here to talk about my friends."

Cassandra snorted derisively. "I have to admit, I still find it hard to believe you have even one friend."

Rachel swallowed hard. "I'm sorry if they were disrespectful."

"Your friends are just like you-- no manners, no self-control. They’ll be better off just going back to that inbred hometown of yours."

Rachel's eyes flashed. "Mike and Santana are very talented. I know Mike is one of the best dancers in your class. He's one of the best dancers I've ever met."

Cassandra chuckled dismissively. "You're what? 18?" she mocked. She knew full well Rachel was only 18, that she was a year younger than Cassandra expected. "You've had one full year of college behind you and you're trying to tell _me_ who's the best dancer in my class? You arrogant, smug little bitch. I'm going to make sure your friends are expelled and I'll be sure they never get into another school. Then what will become of them? And what will become of you when you don't have someone else fighting your battles?"

Rachel swallowed hard. "If you were so intent on ensuring their expulsions, why did you ask me here?"

She was honestly scared. Cassandra July seemed vindictive enough to follow through with it. She was angry at the world and Rachel found herself to be an unfortunate target and outlet for Cassandra's rage.

"I thought I'd give you a chance to convince me," Cassandra said with a lazy smirk. "So, convince me."

Rachel didn't know where to start. "Um, Mike and Santana are from Lima, too. We went to McKinley together and Mike was on the football team, and Santana was on the Cheerios. It was our cheerleading team and they went to Nationals every year. She gave up a full cheerleading scholarship to come to New York. They were both in glee club with me and--"

"Did I ask for a resume, Schwimmer?" Cassandra jeered.

Rachel swallowed hard. She didn't know what to say, so she stared at the floor.

"You're tense," Cassandra commented. "Are you sure you don't want a drink to calm yourself down?" She held out the beer bottle which was nearly empty now.

Rachel shook her head. "No, thank you…"

"Won't even have a little drink to save your friends?" Cassandra sneered.

Rachel swallowed hard and took the bottle from Cassandra, taking a small sip. She held the bottle for Cassandra to take back.

"Finish it off, I don't want your dregs," Cassandra snapped.

Rachel did as she was told.

\--

She was pretty drunk. The drinks kept coming-- she'd barely take a sip and Cassandra would have a new drink for her. She wasn't big on beer, which Cassandra picked up on, so they switched over to vodka mixed with Sprite. Well, Rachel mixed it-- Cassie seemed to have no problem drinking it straight.

They were barely speaking-- the TV was on, but no one was watching it. Mostly, they were just staring at one another and Rachel knew it was a test. She couldn't flinch, but she wanted to.

She wasn't sure how much time passed by, but she was so drunk, she could barely even keep her head up. Her head lolled around drunkenly. Her world spun around. She was so dizzy, she really just wanted to go home and lay down. She was so drunk, her face was numb, but Cassandra didn't even seem affected.

"Jesus, Schwimmer, can't you even hold your liquor?"

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain," Rachel mumbled. "Quinn doesn't like that."

"Who's Quinn?"

"Quinn is Quinn…Quinn is my best…best friend. She…she's the love of my life…she…" Rachel frowned and tried to get back on track. "Quinn doesn't like it when people take the Lord's name in vain…she's…very religious. She'll be upset if you do that, so don't."

"Aren't you Jewish?"

"I joined Jews for Jesus for Quinn," Rachel said drunkenly. She smiled overly brightly. "She's the prettiest girl I've ever seen in the whole wide world."

Cassandra pursed her lips. "You're sloppy," she said. "I think you should lay down."

"Okay," Rachel mumbled.

Cassandra pulled Rachel into a reclining position so that Rachel's head was in her lap.

"What does Quinn look like? You've got a type, Schwimmer?"

"She's beautiful. You kind of look like her."

"Do I?" Cassandra drawled, smiling crookedly.

"Mm-hmm," Rachel said innocently. She stared up at Cassandra and smiled.

"Do you think I'm beautiful, Schwimmer?"

"Mm-hmm," Rachel nodded. She wanted to just leave, but she simply didn't have the energy.

Cassandra stroked her hair. "That's interesting, Schwimmer."

Rachel frowned and pouted. "It's hot," she complained irritably.

"Take off your shirt," Cassandra suggested. "The alcohol will keep you warm."

"Okay," Rachel agreed. She pulled her shirt up while still laying down and struggled to get it off.

Cassandra chuckled and helped Rachel sit up. Rachel took off her shirt.

"Take off your bra, too," Cassie murmured.

"Okay," Rachel mumbled. She took it off and discarded her bra. Cassandra pulled Rachel down into a reclining position again."I'm tired and dizzy."

"You're such an entitled little complainer, Schwimmer," Cassandra said. "If you're so warm, why don't you take off your skirt?"

"Oh, okay," Rachel said. She began to pull her skirt off.

"Let me help you," Cassandra said. "Maybe you should take your underwear off."

"Okay," Rachel garbled

Soon, Rachel was fully naked and lying down, her head in Cassandra's lap.

Cassandra began to trail her hands gently down Rachel's body.

Rachel hummed contentedly.

"You like that, Schwim?"

"Yeah," Rachel mumbled.

"You want me to keep going?"

"Okay,".

"How far are you willing to go to keep your friends in school?"

"Anything," Rachel mumbled. "I'll do anything."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Schwim."

"Okay."

"It _is_ pretty hot in here," Cassandra said. "I think I'll take my clothes off, too. You like that?"

"Yeah…"

Cassandra peeled off the tanktop she was wearing-- she wasn't wearing a bra. She took off her yoga pants and underwear.

"Sit up," Cassandra said

Rachel struggled to sit up, and once she did, she couldn't resist staring at Cassandra's naked breasts.

Cassandra smirked. "You like what you see?"

"You're beautiful," Rachel said sincerely.

"Do you wanna touch me, Schwimmer?"

"Yeah," Rachel mumbled honestly.

"What're you going to do about it?"

Rachel drunkenly reached out and cupped one of Cassandra's breasts.

"Sloppy," Cassandra rebuked. "Who are you ever going to please?"

"Sorry," Rachel muttered, eyes watering. She was always an emotional drunk.

"Let's see if you're a better kisser."

Rachel gulped and leaned in drunkenly. She pressed her lips to Cassandra's and once Cassandra's lips parted, she sucked on her lower lip.

"Would you whore yourself out to me for the rest of the semester for your friends?" Cassandra asked, once they pulled apart. "It's no different from fucking a director for a part, and we both know you would do that."

"I'll do anything for my friends," Rachel mumbled. Her head lolled drunkenly and she tried to focus her eyes on Cassandra's face. But her eyes just wouldn't focus.

She wasn't exactly sure what was happening, but she knew she would do anything for her fathers, and for her friends. There were five people in the world she believed would do anything for her-- would live and die for her. Her fathers were her parents, so they kind of had to love her like that. But Quinn, Santana and Mike chose to love her, and she had faith in them. She knew they would do anything for her, and now Cassandra July was threatening Santana and Mike. She knew she had to do anything Cassandra asked.

"Lay down," Cassandra whispered.

Rachel could barely keep herself sat up, so she was only too happy to lie down again.

"Close your eyes," Cassandra muttered, she said, gently stroking Rachel's hair.

\--

Cassandra stared down at Rachel who was naked and snoring loudly. It was clear the girl was too drunk to even take care of herself. It could be so easy-- she could fuck Rachel out of her system and finally be done with this obsession she'd had with the girl the moment the bumpkin from Ohio stepped foot into her classroom.She could suck on one of the girl's tiny, but pert tits. Or finger that pretty pussy. She could pretty much do anything she wanted-- she had the girl at her mercy, and she had validation that Rachel wanted her, too.

But it would be so, so wrong.

She shamelessly gazed at every inch of Rachel's naked body. She thought about what she'd want to do to that body. She stared extra hard at Rachel's mouth and imagined all the things that mouth could do to her. She thought about exploiting this opportunity and sighed. She knew she had a reputation for being evil, but even she couldn't be _this_ evil. She knew the girl wanted her, but the girl was hardly capable of giving consent right now. Yeah, she wasn't above being evil enough to get the girl drunk and naked to fondle her a little, but she wasn't going to fuck the kid when she couldn't even keep her own head up.

She re-clothed the girl and draped her with a blanket. She couldn't be soft with this kid-- she knew she had to kick the kid out the second Rachel was sober enough to walk. Cassandra got her wallet and pulled out a couple $20 bills and stuffed them into Rachel's wallet. She'd at least give the kid enough for the cab ride home and a few cups of coffee tomorrow. She knew the kid was broke. She resisted the temptation to look through Rachel's wallet.

\--

Rachel woke up solely because her phone was ringing. She knew it was Santana because of the ring tone.

"Hello?" she croaked. She felt awful. She still felt drunk. Her head was spinning, and she wasn't even sure where she was, exactly. Her mouth was so dry, she could barely speak.

"Where the hell are you?!"

"Boo?"

"Where are you?!"

Rachel glanced around. She didn't immediately recognize her surroundings, but then she remembered. "I'm…I'm with Cassandra," she said blearily. She looked around. She didn't see the professor anywhere.

"Still?!"

"Yeah."

"It's fucking nine o'clock!"

"What?"

"Are you drunk?!"

"Yeah."

"She got you drunk?!" Santana practically screamed.

In the background, Rachel could hear Mike shout "what?!" He was shouting questions, and though she couldn't quite make out what he was saying, she could tell he was agitated.

Cassandra emerged from the bedroom into the living room and stared at Rachel with a smirk.

"Please don't yell at me, boo. My head hurts."

"Where are you?" Santana demanded. "We're coming to get you."

Santana woke up before Mike did, and they had breakfast together. She knew Rachel went to NYADA to get in some practice time and meet with Cassie July. They expected Rachel home for lunch, but when she never showed up, they just ate together and then hung out for a few hours. But when Rachel wasn't home even after the sun set, they started to get worried.

"Schwimmer, hang up."

Rachel looked at Cassandra quizzically.

"What?"

"Hang up."

Cassandra knew nothing was going to happen with Rachel tonight, but she wanted to screw with Mike and Santana

"Why?"

"Hang up."

Rachel swallowed hard and hung up. "Hi," she said softly, unable to make eye contact.

Cassandra smirked. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

The phone rang, but Rachel ignored it and silenced it. Rachel tried to concentrate, but she was still drunk. It wasn't her fault. She was small-- even a soupcon of alcohol could get her off her face. "No," she admitted quietly.

Cassandra's smirk grew. "Good. Get the fuck out of my apartment, Schwimmer."

Rachel looked like she was going to cry for just a moment before her face hardened. She stood up. "No," she said. She may not remember what happened, but she remembered why she went there in the first place. "What about my friends?"

"They're safe. For now."

"No, not for now. You can't threaten them again."

"Who the hell are you to tell me how to do my job?"

"You have a problem with me, but it stays between us. You stop picking on my friends. And threatening my friends for defending me to you isn't a part of your job function."

Cassandra closed in on her and used the height difference to intimidate. "What do you know?" she hissed. "You think you can tell me how to do anything?"

Rachel held her ground. "My friends were just looking out for me."

"Your friends have crappy taste."

Rachel clenched her jaw. "Stop threatening my friends."

Cassandra smiled. "Fine. You meet me three days a week to work on your profound lack of skill and I won't make sure your friends are expelled."

Cassandra didn't know what the fuck she was doing, because really, having Rachel in a leotard that left nothing to the imagination was not going to quell her lust-filled feelings.

"I'm not even in your class."

"So? You still move like a goblin in a tutu."

Rachel bit her lip and then nodded in acquiescence.

Cassandra gave her a hard smile. "Good. Now get the fuck out."

Rachel willed herself not to cry as she walked unsteadily toward the door. She'd sobered up a bit while she was passed out, but she wasn't entirely sober yet. Her head was still spinning. The day was a total blur to her-- she couldn't remember a damn thing. But she felt really bad she was now getting unceremoniously kicked out like she was being fucked and dumped. She didn't love Cassandra. She didn't even _like_ Cassandra, and the only reason she was here was to plead for her friends. It shouldn't hurt Cassandra was kicking her out. But it did.

She was about to exit when Cassandra spoke.

"Just get a cab, Schwimmer, don't be a tight ass."

Rachel didn't reply.

Cassandra followed Rachel, taking pains to ensure the girl didn't see her. She waited in the lobby of her building and watched as the girl flagged a cab down. She nodded a little. She was just glad she was sure the girl got into a cab safely.

\--

Rachel was in the cab on the way home when her phone rang again. Santana. She'd called repeatedly since Rachel hung up on her at Cassandra's behest, but Rachel didn't answer. She sighed and picked up.

"Hi, boo," Rachel said. She felt exhausted.

"Where are you? Mike and I are coming to get you."

Santana sounded angry and cold. Rachel winced at the tone.

"I'm in a cab on my way home," Rachel said quietly. "I'm almost home."

"Chang, she's on her way home," Santana informed Mike. "Okay, boo. See you in a few?"

"Yes."

"Stay on the phone with me, boo."

"Okay," Rachel said softly. She felt drowsy and just wanted to get some rest.

Santana chatted about inconsequential things and Rachel just listened as she rode home. She paid the driver-- it was strange, but she had more cash in her wallet than she originally thought. It was completely inconsequential. She put the thoughts out of her mind. She was still on the phone with her when she walked into the apartment.

"Hey," Rachel greeted as she dragged her feet in.

Santana rushed to her while Mike lingered back. Santana hugged her tightly. "What the hell happened to you?" she asked. She kissed the side of Rachel's head and then her cheek. She breathed in deeply. She smelled perfume, but it wasn't Rachel's. She'd smelled that perfume before-- it was Cassandra July's.

"Nothing," Rachel mumbled into Santana's neck. She just wanted to drink a gallon of water and go to sleep. She really couldn't move again on her own agency so she just stood there being held up by Santana.

"She got you drunk, Rach?" Santana asked softly, dangerously.

Rachel nodded. "Help me to bed, boo."

"Okay."

Rachel was basically dead weight and Mike moved in to carry Rachel in his arms. Santana walked in front of them and pulled Rachel's covers up so that Mike could settle Rachel in. Santana tucked Rachel in while Mike stood back, arms folded in front of his chest and seethed. He was so angry, it was palatable.

Santana stroked Rachel's hair. "Boo, you have to stay awake and talk to me for a minute, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel mumbled.

"Did she try anything? Did she hit on you?"

"No…I don't remember…I don't think so…I…" Rachel frowned and rubbed her face into her pillow. "She wanted me to drink with her…"

Santana and Mike exchanged a look. Santana tried to keep the rage she felt out of her voice because she knew Rachel would pick up on it, and she wasn't angry with Rachel. "Boo, are you sure?"

"She's not going to try to kick you guys out of school," Rachel muttered drowsily.

"I don't care about that," Santana said. "Boo, focus for another second. Why do you smell like her perfume? Did she creep up all over you?"

"I don't remember," Rachel said with a sigh. "I'm okay, boo."

Mike heard enough and left the room to get Rachel a large glass of water. If he stayed any longer he may explode. He came back and helped Rachel sit up as Santana continued to talk to her. Rachel drained the glass with a few long pulls. Mike gently patted her cheek. "You okay?"

She gave him a small smile and he eased her onto her back. She immediately curled up onto her side and peered at both of them."I'm okay," she mumbled. "We're all going to be okay," she said. She closed her eyes and just wanted to fall asleep.

Mike stroked her hair for a moment before he stood up. "I'm going to get her another glass of water," he said as he left the room.

He came back and set the refilled glass on the nightstand. Rachel was already drifting off to sleep.

"What are we going to do about this?" he asked Santana quietly.

She pursed her lips. "Not sure if we can, Chang," she said gruffly. "She says she's fine." She didn't want to just drop this, but as far as she could tell, Cassie July just got Rachel drunk. She had no proof Cassie actually did something to Rachel.

He gave her a dark look and sighed. But he knew he had to let it go.

\--

Rachel knew she was blessed with good friends when she woke up in the middle of the night, sick to her stomach, and her friends were there to take care of her. Just a few years ago, she thought that she didn't need friends-- mostly because no one wanted to be her friend. She thought she'd be able to get through life on her own talent and once she'd achieve a certain amount of fame, people would _clamor_ to be her friend. She was finding that life after high school wasn't so different from being in high school, but what really mattered was that she had two supportive parents who loved her, and a group of friends who had her back. She didn't know what she would do without her friends. Would she prefer that she were rich and starring in a Broadway show written specifically with her in mind as opposed to a struggling college student? Absolutely. Would she trade her friends in to achieve that? Never.

\--

Rachel started her private sessions with Cassandra July which mostly composed of Cassandra drunkenly berating her. Rachel was okay with it because sometimes, Cassandra actually taught her something and Rachel could see a glimmer of her former greatness. It was for these moments that Rachel kept going back. She endured the demoralizing putdowns for Mike and Santana, but she kept returning because she could tell there was more to Cassandra July than what she showed the world.

\--

The private sessions had gone on for about a six weeks. They rarely talked during them, but Rachel found herself actually becoming comfortable. From the word around campus, and Mike and Santana, it seemed like Cassandra was mellowing out on her freshman dance class.

They were practicing some salsa dancing when Rachel got caught up in a moment and kissed her.

She didn't know what possessed her, but soon she had Cassie flat on her back, and she was ripping the professor's very expensive leotard off. Cassandra didn't stop her and instead just seemed to encourage her to go further. Cassandra's hands groped at Rachel's clothes, but Rachel batted her hands away. She wasn't going to allow Cassandra to undress her. She continued to kiss Cassandra fiercely, her hands groping over Cassandra's body.

She pushed Cassandra onto her ass, knees in the air and leaning back on her elbows. Rachel spread Cassandra's legs apart and paused only for a moment to peer up at Cassandra for permission.

Cassandra smirked and tilted her head to the side. She nodded.

Rachel didn't waste any time. Rachel liked foreplay as much as anyone else, but this wasn't about setting a mood or showing respect or anything other than a quick fuck that had been a long time coming. She wasn't the kind of person who was really into that sort of thing, but ever since she got drunk at Cassie July's apartment and woke up in her own apartment barely remembering the day or how she even got home, she was pretty suspicious. She could smell Cassie July's perfume on herself and she had no idea how that would happen. Sometimes, she'd hug Quinn or Santana and get their perfume on her, and she'd carry them with her for a few hours. But she couldn't imagine being in close enough proximity to Cassie July that her perfume would rub off on her. It'd bothered her even while she tried to put it out of her mind, because she had to admit that on that day, a part of her had wanted something to happen. Still, she was a little upset she couldn't remember it.

This was a grudge fuck, and she wasn't gentle about it. She didn't think Cassie minded given the way the blonde instructor was frenetically humping her face while Rachel ate her out. Cassandra made the most amazing noises-- low growls, keening whines. She was practically begging and hearing Cassandra beg, even if not in words was a total high. She even tasted amazing and Rachel sucked on Cassie's clit like it was piece of candy that was going to be taken away from her. She didn't think being that rough would be particularly pleasant or pleasurable, but Cassandra evidently subscribed to the 'if it isn't rough, it isn't fun' school of sex.

When Cassandra came, she pulled Rachel's hair at the back of her scalp so hard, she ripped out enough hair that it actually hurt enough to give Rachel a headache. But she ignored that and turned Cassandra over, so she laid on her belly and gave that perfect peaches-and-cream ass a hard bite. She started to roughly massage and kiss Cassandra's ass cheeks. She smirked when Cassie began to moan and hump the floor. When Cassie came again, Rachel smacked her on the ass as hard as she could and then covered Cassie's body with her own. Her breasts pressed into Cassandra's back and she began to dry-hump Cassandra's ass. Her mouth was close to Cassandra's ear.

"I know you did something to me that night," Rachel whispered. "Don't ever come near me or my friends again," she hissed. Then she delivered another hard slap to Cassandra's bare ass, stood up on her feet and fled the room as quickly as she could.

\--

Rachel felt awful once she got home. She couldn't believe she did that, but when she told Santana about it, her friend just cackled and high-fived her.

"Hit it and quit it, boo. That's all she deserved."

Even Mike seemed amused. Quinn outright laughed. But Rachel didn't like the idea that she could treat someone like that.

"I think you were just hard-up for sex, boo," Santana told her bluntly. "You haven't been with anyone since we…" she trailed off. She calculated it in her head. They ended things when Brittany moved into the city mid-June. It was now the beginning of November. That was more than four full months without sex. It made sense to her that Rachel would be horny. And the fact that Rachel hit it and quit it with Cassandra July made it even better.

Rachel looked scandalized. "I am not!"

"You are," Santana said. "I think you should ask Mike out."

Rachel laughed. "Mike? He doesn’t like me in the way."

Santana rolled her eyes at the sheer obliviousness. "Boo, he's been into you for almost a year now. Just ask him out, he will say yes."

Rachel shook her head. "I can't. If he says no--"

"He's not going to say no! You never said that you didn't like him like that, boo. So, you obviously do like him. Ask. Him. Out."

Santana was possessive, but she knew she had no hold over Rachel anymore. After all, she was with Brittany again. But Santana didn't want Rachel to date just any douchebag. Mike Chang was a good guy who Santana knew would treat Rachel right. She didn't see the problem.

"If he says no, it'll ruin our friendship and I can't lose him as a friend."

" Even if it doesn't work out, you guys can still be friends. We stayed friends. Us and Quinn, too."

"Yes, and I highly doubt I will get lucky for the third time. I'm not going to ask Mike out and risk losing him as a friend. But I do think you are right-- I should start dating someone."

"Date Mike Chang!"

"Oh, stop it."

"Midget, just ask him out."

Rachel was exasperated. "I'm not asking him out. Stop telling me to. You are not the boss of me."

"Oh my God, boo, what are you? Seven?"

Rachel huffed. "I hardly think asserting my independence is characteristic of a seven year old."

"How many seven year olds say 'you aren't the boss of me'? I bet my left tit that a lot of them do."

Rachel smirked. "How much did you pay for it, exactly? I'm not sure I have something of comparable monetary value."

Santana snorted, because actually, that was kind of hilarious. Yeah, she loved this girl. She dropped the subject and instead settled for a quick chastising smack to Rachel's ass.

\--

Santana texted Mike Chang that night while in bed, thinking if Rachel wasn't going to take the plunge, she'd have to make sure Mike would.

From Santana: Yo, ask Rachel out. She wants to get up on you.

She could almost imagine the expression on Mike's face, and laughed.

From her bed, Rachel called out to her. "What are you up to?" she asked warily.

"Nothing, boo. Just go to bed."

Mike's response came within seconds.

From Mike: How do you know?  
From Mike: Did she say something?  
From Mike: Text me back  
From Mike: Are you there?  
From Mike: Is she telling you not to text me?

Santana cackled. This was just hilarious.

"Boo, what are you up to?!"

"Go to sleep, boo."

From Santana: She said she'd ask you out if she thought you'd say yes. But she won't because she's afraid you'll say no and you'll stop being friends.  
From Santana: Man up, Changster. Anyone can see you sport wood for her

From Mike: Rude. Don't talk about her like that. She's special!

From Santana: Are you special?  
From Santana: Special ed, haha

From Mike: I'm gonna tell Rachel you said that

From Santana: No! I'm sorry. Fine, I'll stop. Just ask her out, Chang.

She did not want a lecture from Rachel about disparaging people with developmental or intellectual disabilities.

From Mike: K. I'll have to think of something special. I'm on it. Thanks.

From Santana: Get on it.

That ended their text communication and Santana went to bed satisfied.

\--

Rachel was still thinking about her conversation with Santana two days later. She was on campus, waiting for Santana so they could grab a cup of coffee. She'd studiously avoided Cassandra July since their last encounter, so when she caught a glimpse of Cassie walking toward one of the buildings, Rachel quickly turned her entire body. She caught a glimpse of Mike talking to some of his friends and stared at him for a long moment. He hadn't noticed her yet, and she took that moment just to look at him.

She'd always found him attractive. Even when they were in first grade together, she thought he was the cutest boy in the class. He never really went through an awkward phase-- she noticed that about him. He was always tall, lean and talented. He'd always been quiet and kind. He never had a mean word to say about anyone. Even if he wasn't the most talented singer, he always gave his all in every glee practice and performance, and she thought that meant he was reliable. So, here was this handsome guy with an incredible body and incredible talent, who could have gotten away with being an arrogant jerk purely based on how hot he was, but he was sweet, kind, nice and dependable, too. It should have been a no-brainer. The moment she was single, she should have asked him out and reeled him in. But when she thought about being in a relationship with him, she thought about how it would probably be a disaster. She was realistic with herself and she knew she was often selfish. He was too kind for her, and she didn't think she was good enough to be with him, not yet. Not right now.

She bit her lip and her eyes found Gabriel Zhou. He was older-- a senior and handsome. He was shorter than Mike and built like a rugby player. He reminded her of Mike around the nose and jaw line, and it was those two features in Gabe that appealed most to Rachel. She didn't know him well, but they shared a few classes together and she appreciated his talented as an actor and singer. He'd asked her out last year while she'd been involved with Santana and Quinn, but she'd shot him down. He'd told her to find him if she changed her mind.

She never really gave him much thought until that moment-- he reminded her a little of Mike, so how bad could he be?

\--

Mike, Rachel, Santana and Brittany were having their usual Thursday dinner and TV night, when Santana decided to give Mike and Rachel a little push, since _obviously_ those two were utterly inept.

"Hey, so Chang. Boo. What are you guys doing tomorrow night? Brit and I have date night, you know."

Mike gave her a dirty look, which wow, was actually kind of mean, though she remained unintimidated. She did not appreciate his waffling. He was supposed to have asked Rachel out by now, and Santana just knew he was held up because he was probably planning something ridiculous like getting a million balloons or training animals to talk or something. But really, all he needed to do was ask a simple question. The guy needed to cowboy up.

"Um," Rachel said. "I actually have a date."

She actually asked Gabe out, and he said yes. She'd had second thoughts when he smirked at her and said "I knew you'd change your mind." She didn't like that kind of arrogance, and he stopped reminding her of Mike the second he proved he was a smirking egotist. But then she re-thought things, how she could definitely benefit from moving on with her life. And so, she made plans for tomorrow night.

"What?" Mike, Santana and Brittany said.

Santana was inwardly freaking the fuck out. She glanced at Mike. He looked like someone stomped on his balls. Or maybe his heart. He looked pale.

"Gabe Zhou. He asked me out last year, but I said no. I--I thought it was a good idea if I started dating again, so I asked him out today. We have a date tomorrow."

"Gabe Zhou? He's a douchebag," Santana said.

"He's not that bad," Mike said. "I've seen him around. I'm happy for you, Rach," Mike said, putting on the brave face. He looked like he was going to throw up. Or cry.

"Who is Gabe Zhou?" Brittany asked.

"Gabe Zhou is this douchey senior at NYADA. I want to punch him in the face every time I look at him," Santana informed.

"Boo" Rachel chided.

"What? It's true." Santana was starting to get hot under the collar. "I can't believe you're going out with that douche when there are other people you could go out with. People who aren't complete douchepickles."

Rachel scowled. "This subject is closed for further discussion."  
\--

 


	11. Chapter 11

\--  
Gabe was…okay. It wasn't the worst date Rachel had ever been on, but she couldn't wait to get home. They had dinner and Rachel was just going to call it a night, but he cajoled her into attending a NYADA party. She wasn't big on those, and she really was just going to go home. But she told herself she needed to expand her horizons.

\--

The party was loud, the music sucked and she could smell cigarette smoke filtering into apartment from outdoors. When he asked her to go to one of the bedrooms to talk in a quieter environment, she was going to say 'no,' but instead she said 'okay,' and followed him into a bedroom. She was cursing herself for being overly compliant when it came to such things when he shut the door behind them.

He gave her this smile-- it was clearly meant to be disarming, but the thing was, she'd _seen_ disarming smiles, and she knew when they were sincere and when they were meant to just lull her into a false sense of security. High school had been pretty hellish for her, after all.

She realized immediately that she made a huge mistake. There was nothing really specific, just a gut instinct that she should have rescinded the offer of the date when he gave her that smirk at school. She certainly shouldn't have followed him into a room where they were alone. There was that little voice inside her that told her she needed to get away _right now_.

Her daddy once told her that while it was his and dad's job to try to teach her right from wrong, how to be a good person and just how to survive in the world, the most important thing to remember was to 'always listen to that little voice inside you.' Her fathers described it as 'that something inside you that tells you something is not right.' And she knew in that moment, something was not right.

She moved to get away, but he grabbed her and kissed her.

It was forceful and unwanted. She'd never been kissed like that. She'd been kissed roughly. She'd even been kissed forcefully, sure. But she'd never been kissed in a way that was both forceful _and_ unwanted.

"No," she told him quietly. She swallowed thickly. "No," she said again, firmly.

She tried to move for the door again, but he blocked her again. "Hey, come on."

"No," she repeated quietly. "No!" she repeatedly loudly.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she was ready to cry, because maybe she was overreacting. Maybe she was just crazy. But all she knew that every instinct inside of her told her that she needed to get away as soon as possible. That she'd made a grievous miscalculation.

"Hey, calm down. It's gonna be okay." His voice was weirdly gentle, given his actions.

She pushed him away and tried to the door again. "No!" she shouted. "No!"

They started to struggle and Rachel knew that she just had to fight. Even he was so much bigger and stronger than she was, she just needed a moment of weakness she could exploit and then she could get away. This was just too unreal. This couldn't be happening, not to her.

\--

Rachel was still crying when she got home that night. She wasn't sure if she should be sad or relieved that Santana wasn't home.

The first thing she did was take a long, hot shower. Even as she did it, she knew she shouldn't be doing it. She should be going to the hospital. She should be letting the police take a rape kit. Her clothes should be evidence. A million episodes of _Law and Order_ , a trillion safety lectures from her fathers, endless brochures and one freshman orientation all informed her that she was doing the exact opposite of what she should be doing.

But none of those things ever prepared her for the lingering feeling of him crawling all over her, inside of her even when he wasn't there anymore, how that feeling of violation just never ceased. No brochure or lecture could have ever prepared her for feeling _sticky_ and not just _dirty_. She _needed_ to get clean, to get him _off_ her, out of her, and that need superseded any of that advice written by people who were more concerned with getting some perp off the street than her ability to not feel him every time she moved.

The water ran cold when Rachel finally stepped out of the shower. She got dressed quickly and stared at the clothes she'd worn on the date. Tights, a skirt, a blouse and a sweater. The skirt was a little short and she thought about all the jibes she'd heard for years about the indecent length of her skirts. Rage bubbled up inside her. The clothes were all torn anyway-- she'd never be able to wear any of it again, not that she'd want to. She ripped the clothes to shreds before she even knew what she was doing and threw them into the garbage. Then she took the garbage out to the building's garbage chute. She needed to forget it.

She lied in bed wearily. She was exhausted, but her mind was racing. Every sound made her heart race with fear. She'd never been so afraid in her own home, or to be alone.

Her phone beeped-- a text from Mike.

From Mike: Hey, Rach. Call me after you get home from your date to let me know you got home safe. Tell me all about it. I hope it was nice.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She should have asked him out-- other than her fathers, there was no man she trusted more than Mike Chang. She should have listened to the voice inside of her that told her to stay away from Gabe Zhou. She should have followed the voice inside her that told her to ask Mike out.

She couldn't face Mike. Not in person or via the phone. Not when she knew how horribly she'd miscalculated. Even if Mike had rejected her, it wouldn't hurt this much. And no matter how badly a love affair between the two of them ended, he would have never hurt her this badly. She shut her phone off and curled up in bed. She couldn't believe this was happening to her.

\--

By Saturday afternoon, Santana was completely freaking out. Rachel was completely off the grid. Chang wasn't helping her, either. He sent her a barrage of text messages asking if she'd heard from Rachel.

Not getting a return text on Friday night was one thing. But not getting a return text by Saturday afternoon was a totally different thing,

She cut her weekend with Brittany short to go home to check on Rachel. She took Mike Chang with her because she knew he wouldn’t let up until he saw Rachel for himself.

\--

Santana knew something was wrong when she got home because the bedroom door was closed. It was rare for the bedroom door to be closed, but it was more than that-- it was the atmosphere in the apartment. She wasn't some weird hippie who believed in vibes and moods and shit, but their home always seemed happy to her. It was hard for the place not to be happy because Rachel was always so fucking bright and cheerful. But even with all the bright colors and the Hipster Pollyanna look of the place, something in the air felt dark, stifling and sad.

Santana walked into the bedroom and sighed with relief when she saw Rachel curled up in bed. But the air in their bedroom felt stale and musty. She wrinkled her nose when she realized she smelled vomit.

"Rachel?" Santana said. "Boo?" She sat on the bed. She wanted to hug Rachel, but something inside of her told her not to. "Are you sick?" There was dried vomit on the bed, near the pillow. Rachel didn't even seem to care.

Rachel sniffled. "I'm fine, San. Just leave me alone."

Her voice was hoarse and weak. She was not fine.

"Rach?" Mike said quietly. "What’s wrong?"

Rachel sniffled again. "Nothing. Just…I need some space. Can you guys leave me alone? Mike, you can go home. And San? You can go to Brit's right? Just…I need to be alone for a while."

Santana and Mike exchanged looks. Santana swallowed with difficulty. "Boo, can you get up? Sleep in my bed, okay? I'm going to change your sheets. I think...I think you threw up in yours, right?"

"I don't care," Rachel said wearily.

Mike swallowed visibly. "Rach, if you're too tired, I could pick you up and carry you to San's bed. Would that be okay?"

"I don't care," Rachel repeated.

The minute Mike pulled Rachel into his arms, her body became stiff and she began to cry quietly. He glanced at Santana. He didn't know what to do. Santana looked just as bewildered.

Mike carried Rachel to Santana's bed and eased her into it. He pulled the covers up to her chin. She immediately rolled onto her side, her back to them.

"Rach, San and I are going to change your bed sheets, okay?"

"Okay."

Santana had a bad feeling. Rachel was dressed in sweat pants and a sweatshirt-- indoors. This was not typical for her. She had a high body temperature so she tended to walk around in shorts and a tanktop. She had a date last night with some douchebag and had been incommunicado ever since. None of that boded well. She glanced at Mike who silently gestured for her to talk to Rachel.

Mike changed the sheets while Santana kneeled by Rachel's side.

"Boo," Santana said gently. "You’re really freaking me out here. Are you sick? Or did something happen?"

Rachel continued to cry quietly.

Hesitantly, Santana petted Rachel's hair. She suspected what happened. There was no way that Rachel would be like this over a simple bad date, especially because Rachel didn't seem all that hung up over Gabe Zhou. Santana knew she needed to be careful about how she touched Rachel, but at the same time, Rachel was such a tactile person. She was a hugger and Santana wasn't sure _not_ touching her was the right thing to do.

"Boo, did Gabe--" Santana swallowed hard. She didn't want to use the word 'rape,' but she also didn't want to minimize what that douche did if what she suspected was correct. Tears welled up in Santana's eyes. "Did he rape you?" she whispered.

A loud sob filled the room as Rachel began to cry loudly now. It was confirmation enough. The question made Mike freeze as he struggled to put a pillowcase on. He swallowed visibly.

Santana wanted to cry, too. "Boo--"

"Leave me alone."

"Rachel," Santana's voice trembled. "Please--"

"Leave me alone."

Santana hesitantly put her hand on Rachel's shoulder. She was relieved when Rachel allowed her to keep it there.

"Boo, we need to talk about this," Santana said gently.

"Just let me go to sleep," Rachel said wearily. "Please, leave me alone. Just let me go to sleep."

The tears in Santana's eyes spilled over. "Okay, boo. I'm here now, okay? I'm here. Go to sleep."

She turned around to look at Mike and realized he was gone.

'Oh shit,' Santana thought. He knew where that Gabe guy lived. She ran out of the apartment and found him running down the stairs.

"Mike! Mike!"

He kept running.

"Chang!" she screamed.

He was crying, but he stopped and faced her. "Shit!" he screamed, kicking the wall in pure frustration. "Shit!"

Santana was sobbing as she reached him. "Where the fuck do you think you're going!?" she shouted at him.

"He doesn't care!" Mike shouted. "He doesn't care! I saw him at Starbucks this morning. He was flirting with the barista. He doesn't _care_ what he did to her!"

Santana sniffled, trying to get some control. "He doesn't matter. _She_ matters. She's sleeping now, but when she wakes up, she's going to want you there. Forget him," she pleaded. She wasn't going to let him do something stupid and throw his life away. Gabe Zhou wasn't going to get away with fucking up _two_ of her friends. "Please, just come back up and let the police handle it. When she wakes up, we're gonna take her to the doctor and the police will handle it."

Mike was still crying as he followed her back to the apartment.

\--

Santana's plans to get the police were immediately nixed when Rachel refused to even get a physical exam. Santana and Mike begged, pleaded and cajoled, but Rachel refused. It was clear to Santana that she was in deep denial because shit, there were so many things Santana knew that Rachel needed to do. But there was no way in hell that Santana was going to _force_ Rachel into doing something she didn't want to do. Even if Rachel, like, got an STD or something from this guy, they would handle it. Santana just couldn't force Rachel to go-- she thought about it, too. She thought about just taking Rachel to the emergency room, but she pictured herself dragging Rachel kicking, screaming, crying and the mental visual just made her throw up. She understood now why Rachel's sheets had been vomited on. She cried as Mike held back her hair. She never should have told Rachel that she needed to date.

She was almost tempted to tell Mike to kill Gabe when she helped Rachel to the bathroom to take another shower. Rachel was limping a little, like it hurt to walk. Later she helped Rachel put her clothes back on and she grimaced when she saw the bruises littering Rachel's body. There were abrasions on her knees and palms, the implications of which did not hit Santana until later. There were bite marks, too and Santana pushed down her rage to be as gentle as possible. What happened to Rachel had been violent-- Santana knew that for a fact. She and Rachel had had rough sex in the past, but Rachel never liked it rough enough where they'd be marked up and bruises _everywhere_.

She pleaded with Rachel to tell the police, but Rachel was too shell-shocked.

\--

It took over a month to convince Rachel to get medical attention.

Santana knew it was going against every single piece of advice she ever heard in dealing with this situation. But how could she force Rachel to see a doctor even knowing that seeing a doctor would be best for Rachel? Rachel was pretending like nothing ever happened, and out in the world, at NYADA, it was almost believable. She was quieter and subdued, and she dressed a little more conservatively, which Santana's research into PTSD, told her wasn't unusual. Rachel was _not_ okay. But she was a good enough actress that her school work didn't suffer, and she didn't raise any eyebrows, though Santana did see Cassie July give Rachel the eye. There was no way in hell that Santana or Mike were going to allow Cassandra July to ever be alone with Rachel though.  
  
But when Rachel was home, the act slipped away, it was _obvious_ something was terribly wrong. Rachel was practically catatonic when she was at home. She didn't eat unless Santana or Mike reminded her to. She didn't shower until Santana gently urged her to the bathroom. Santana had to pull away from Brittany-- she loved her girlfriend, but Rachel just needed her more. Santana knew that Brittany was a little pissed and jealous, but there was no way she would tell Brittany about what happened. This wasn't the sort of thing she would broadcast. Brittany was busy anyway--she'd booked a job as a dancer for a singer who was about to go on tour and she had to spend a lot of time rehearsing. Santana didn't think it affected Brittany _that_ much.

She did her best to take care of Rachel, who had difficulty meeting her own basic needs. The show she put on at school exhausted her energy to do anything else.

They all saw Gabe Zhou around campus and around the city.

For the first time, Santana understood why some people actually plotted a murder. Santana wasn't the sort of person to rule anything out, but she knew she was more of a crime-of-passion person than a premeditated-murder person.

But when she saw that man, she wanted to kill him. And she wanted to get away with it.

For the very first time in her life, she talked with serious intent about murdering someone. She and Mike had several conversations about how they could possibly do it and get away with it. Mike knew for a fact, for example, that Gabe was allergic to strawberries. He'd overheard Gabe talking about it with someone. He'd apparently had an allergic reaction when he was two and nearly died. Mike assumed the guy probably wouldn't remember what strawberries tasted like, and it would be easy to give the guy a strawberry smoothie. It was so tempting, and they'd even purchased the strawberry smoothie one day to follow through.

But ultimately they couldn't.

Although Rachel agreed to the physical examination, she refused to go to the police. She said it'd been too long anyway, and she'd seen and read enough about these types of situations to know that the investigation would only hurt her, not him.

They went to get an examination at Planned Parenthood the day after Rachel's 19th birthday. It was a blistering cold Thursday and Mike was borrowing a friend's car so that they wouldn't have to take public transportation.

Rachel was subdued through the examination. Santana tried to be as supportive as possible, although she just wanted to throw up. She never copped to the rape-- she said she'd had "unprotected sex" like it was consensual or something. Just thinking about it made Santana angry all over again.

The STD panels would take a while to come back, but they did a pregnancy test on the spot.

It was positive. They even heard a fetal heartbeat.

\--

They were shell-shocked on the car ride back home. The pregnancy test was conclusive. Rachel was pregnant.

Rachel was curled up in the backseat crying. Santana stared straight ahead, hands clenching and then unclenching into fists. Mike stayed quiet as he drove slowly and carefully.

"Boo," Santana said softly, once they got back to the apartment and Rachel flopped onto her bed to lie down. "Boo, listen. It's going to be okay. You'll get an abortion and--"

"No," Rachel sniffled. "No abortion."

"Boo--"

"I can't have an abortion."

"Boo, it's still early and--"

"No, you don't understand," Rachel's voice broke. "If I get an abortion, Quinn will _hate_ me. She'll _hate_ me. She's Christian and she believes life begins at conception. If I get an abortion, she'll look at me differently." Rachel sobbed harder. "She won't love me anymore. She won't want to be my friend!"

Santana's eyes welled up. "Rach. Baby, Quinn loves you. She's not going to want you to have _his_ baby. You…you were raped, Rach. You…you don't need to carry that with you forever."

"She'll _hate_ me," Rachel's voice cracked.

"You don't have to tell her," Santana said desperately.

"I'll never be able to look her in the face again, not if I do something she's that opposed to." Rachel shook her head. "I can't do it. I can't," she sobbed. She began to rock herself back and forward as she cried. "She didn't have one with Beth and she was only 16. She won't…she won't be okay with it. She'd say she is, but if she found out-- God, she'd hate me."

"Rachel--"

A rough sob tore out of Rachel's throat. "Oh God, what am I going to tell my dads?" she cried. She was so distraught, she kept rocking back-and forth, her hands gripped her hair, pulling at the strands. She was pulling her own hair out in clumps, but she didn't seem to notice.

Santana held back tears as she reached for Rachel's hands. She didn't want her friend to hurt herself. "Rach, boo. Boo, please, calm down, okay? Please-- just, breathe, baby. Just…just hold my hands, okay? Okay?" she pleaded, holding Rachel's hands as Rachel continued to desperately rock back and forth.

No one spoke, but Rachel continued to cry. Mike stared at them, teary-eyed.

"Oh God, my dads are going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What am I going to tell them? They're going to ask about the father and what am I going to tell them? Oh my God. Oh God." She beginning to hyperventilate.

"Boo, please," Santana pleaded. "You need to breathe, baby. You're going to make yourself sick."

But Rachel couldn't seem to hear her, and her breathing became more erratic and labored as she continued to rock herself.

"Boo, you're going to make yourself sick. Please--"

Rachel vomited on the floor and began to sob.

"Boo," Santana cried. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. Just breathe, okay?"

"My dads," Rachel sobbed. "They're going to hate me so much. Oh God…"

"We'll tell them the baby's mine," Mike said quietly, speaking for the first time. He crouched next to Rachel and hesitantly stroked her hair-- she was still so skittish and afraid of people touching her. "I think you should have an abortion, Rachel--I _know_ Quinn would support this, too. But if you are set on keeping the baby, then we'll tell everyone the baby is mine. The baby is mine, okay, Rach? It's my baby."

Rachel and Santana both stared at him.

"Mike," Rachel said weakly. She hiccupped and had to take a few deep breaths before she could speak. "Wha-wha-What are you talking about? You can't--"

"If you keep this baby," Mike said softly, "we won't ever let it or anyone else know about the father. As far as anyone is concerned, _I'm_ the dad, Rach. Okay? I'm the dad. Gabe and I are both Chinese-- no one is even going to question it."

"Mike, you can't--"

"Yes, I can," Mike interrupted gently.

Rachel put her arms around Mike. "You can't do this."

"Yes, I can."

Santana swallowed hard. "Jesus," she whispered. She pulled her phone out to text Quinn.

Fabray needed to get here to talk sense into Rachel

"You can't do this," Rachel whispered.

"Yes, I can," he said softly, holding her. He stroked her hair. "The baby deserves a good dad. I can be the dad, Rach. We can even get married if you want. But the baby is mine as of today, okay? It's mine."

\--

It was a testament to their friendship Quinn seemed to sense that when Santana texted her "you need to get here, ASAP, 911," she wasn't crying out for attention or just lonely or something. Things had been really weird for the past for the past month-- both Rachel and Santana had been a little hard to reach. Even Mike was difficult to get a hold of, and he was typically so good about returning phone calls and texts. It'd been a while since she reached her friends and she was a little worried. She'd chalked it up to everyone's busy schedules, but when she got Santana's text, the worry was notched up to alarm. She'd already had plans to go into the city over the weekend to celebrate Rachel's birthday, but once she got the text, she dropped everything. She was already on the train when she realized she'd been in such a rush that she forgot Rachel's present.

When she would look back on this in hindsight, she always wondered how she could have been so blind. If nothing else, she should have known something was wrong on Rachel's birthday when she'd texted "Happy Birthday" to Rachel and never got any response.

\--

"I have to tell you something," Santana said, looking somber. "And I'm only telling you because I think you're the only one who can talk some sense into her. But you have to keep this on the downlow."

Quinn looked wary. "Okay, San."

Santana quietly explained everything they'd been keeping a secret for the past six weeks.

Quinn looked pole-axed. Her eyes were teary. She opened her mouth to speak, but a soft whimper escaped and she became silent again. She exhaled weakly. With difficulty, she cleared her throat and spoke.

"She-she said that _I_ would think…" Her eyes shut tightly and she wiped angrily them. "I have to talk to her."

"You have to tell her it's okay if she gets an abortion, Q."

"Of course it's okay if she gets an abortion!" Quinn snapped. She was crying now. "I can't believe she would think I would have a problem with it. Oh my God," she said, her voice cracking.

Santana fought off her own tears. "Q, babe. You got to pull yourself together and talk to her. Please."

Quinn wiped at her eyes and nodded. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay." She sniffed. "I can do that." Her lip wobbled. "I can do it, really. I'll talk to her, San."

\--

Quinn walked into the familiar bedroom and exchanged a small smile with Mike, who was sitting next to Rachel's bed. They hugged tightly, and Quinn wanted to cry again when she saw the way his face trembled.

"I'll leave you guys alone," he told her.

He left the room and Quinn took his place next to the bed.

"Hi, Rachel," she said quietly. She really needed to see Rachel, but she was buried under the covers and Rachel's back was to her.

Rachel didn't respond. She was too exhausted. She put on a brave face when she was at school, but she couldn't put one on now.

"Rach, Santana told me about what happened." Quinn's voice began to shake. Quinn wished she'd known _when_ it happened, but she wasn't about to turn Rachel being raped into something about her. It was just there wasn't anything that would have kept her from being with Rachel if she'd known. "Honey…you know that I love you, don't you?"

Rachel didn't respond.

"Rachel, baby. I'm pro-choice. Did you know that? I didn't have an abortion with Beth because it wasn't right for me. But Puck didn't rape me. Honey, if someone did that to me, I would have an abortion. I swear to you. Please, honey. Have the abortion. If it's what you want, it's the right thing to do."

Rachel began to cry and curled up fetal in the bed.

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut and wiped away the tears that trailed down her cheeks. Nothing that has happened to her in her life thus far prepared her for this. She expected bad things to happen to her, and life has proven to her she was pretty resilient. She was even proud of herself for this, because she thought if she could survive being the ugly duckling in a family of blond swans, or her parents' alcohol-fueled rages, or getting pregnant at sixteen and getting kicked out of the house and disowned, or being homeless as a pregnant teenager or dealing with gay feelings while listening to a sermon actively demonizing gay people or a terrible car accident that almost left her paralyzed, then she could survive anything.

But she loved Rachel-- she was still _in_ love with Rachel, and Rachel being in pain was so much worse than her own pain. It hurt terribly enough when Rachel choked during her NYADA audition and it seemed like her dreams would be deferred. But this was…Quinn couldn't even articulate how awful this was. Rachel hurting like this absolutely gutted Quinn. She'd never felt so demoralized or helpless.

"Rachel, honey. I'm going to get into the bed with you. Is that okay?"

Rachel did not respond.

Quinn got into the bed with Rachel and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl who felt so frail.

Rachel started to cry fairly hard, her body wracked by sobs, but Quinn held onto her.

"No one is going to hurt you," Quinn whispered. "Not anymore."

She knew she shouldn't promise, because if she was capable of keeping a promise like that, this wouldn't be happening. But she needed desperately to make things better.

"Honey," Quinn whispered. "I'll even go with you to…to have the abortion. God, Rachel, I'll even _pay_ for it. But please, please don't keep this baby because you think I'll have a problem with it. Because I don't. I want you to have the abortion. Please, I'm begging you. I love you-- please don't think I could ever love you less for _any_ reason, especially not this one."

Quinn didn't think she could live with that. Quinn didn't think she _should_ live if Rachel kept the baby because of her. If Rachel was going to allow some rapist's baby to grow inside of her for _her_ sake, Quinn thought she should just kill herself now so that Rachel would stop thinking like that. She was half-tempted to just jump in front of a train.

Rachel's sobs became even louder and so Quinn became silent and just held her.

\--

Hours later, Rachel pulled away from Quinn and sat up in the bed. She gave Quinn an overly bright smile.

"Thank you very much for coming here," Rachel said cheerfully. "We should do something. It was my birthday yesterday, you know."

Quinn was completely unnerved. She recognized that smile and that tone-- Rachel would often take on that smile and tone after particularly brutal Slushie showers. It was all an act-- Rachel's way of keeping the rest of the world away.

Quinn took a deep breath. Rachel wasn't crying anymore and Quinn didn't want to set her off again. But she couldn't just drop this. She had to make Rachel see.

"Rachel, sweetheart," she entreated. "Please believe me-- I'm more than okay with you having an abortion. I don't think there is anything wrong with it. Abortions for everyone!" she exclaimed, a little too desperately. Then she realized she sounded totally absurd.

Rachel gave her a watery smile and gave off a teary, shaky laugh. But she didn't say anything in response.

"Rachel…" Quinn said. "God, if you really believe I'm that crazy enough to be against you having an abortion…God, I'll get pregnant now and have an abortion with you. Beyond that, I don't know what else I could do to make you believe me." Quinn sniffed. "Please tell me what I can do to make you believe me!" she pleaded.

She knew she was going a little too far-- she'd contemplated suicide and now she was offering to get pregnant with the sole intention of having an abortion as though Planned Parenthood was going to give them some sort of two-for-one special. She knew she was being insane and irrational. She knew the things she was planning was so far off the metaphorical reservation, that she was now in the Arctic Circle. But her heart felt so cold right now and she was just so scared for Rachel. She would do anything to try to make things okay.

"The baby has a heartbeat, I heard it." Rachel said quietly. "And at six weeks, the eyes, nose and ears are starting to develop. I still remember this from when you were pregnant with Beth and I looked up fetal development."

Quinn sniffed. "I looked stuff up, too," she said quietly. Six weeks had been a watershed for her because that was when she first realized she was pregnant, so fetal development at six weeks was particularly clear in her memory. "Honey, it's not a baby. And maybe the eyes, nose and ears are starting to develop, but it's the size of a _lentil_. You are _nineteen_. You don't need to have this baby. Please, please, have the abortion."

"I _can't_ ," Rachel said tearfully. "I can't. You didn't have an abortion with Beth-- you could have. It would have been easier for you if you had. But you didn't. It clearly means something to you and your religion says it's wrong and--"

"Rachel, _no_. No. Please believe me--"

"I-I have to live with the consequences of my actions like you did," Rachel whispered.

" _Consequences_?!" Quinn's voice cracked. "Baby, he…he forced himself on you. You didn't do anything wrong. Have the abortion, _please_."

"I can't do it," Rachel whispered. "I won't be able to live with myself. I'll keep thinking you hate me and--"

"I could _never_ hate you. God, Rachel. I've loved you since I was fifteen years old. I want what's best for you."

Rachel sniffled. "I need to do this. I can't…I can't do it. Please, I can't keep talking about this. Just believe me. I can't do it. I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't, I c--" Rachel's voice cracked.

"Okay," Quinn whispered. She put her arms around Rachel. "Okay. Whatever you want, Rachel. I'll support you. No matter what."

Rachel buried her face into Quinn's shoulder and sobbed again. Quinn held her close and tried to soothe her as best she could. Quinn didn't know what to do other than to hold her.

\--

Rachel cried for a little longer, but did calm down eventually.

Rachel pressed her forehead into Quinn's shoulder. "I just want to forget this happened to me," she whispered.

"I know, baby," Quinn whispered back. Her eyes watered. Knowing Rachel the way she did now, she couldn't imagine how anyone would want to hurt her. The sight of Rachel crying was just so painful. How could anyone stand it?

"I don't want to cry anymore," Rachel said softly. She sniffled. "I want to sleep forever."

Quinn gently stroked her hair. I can't let you sleep forever," she said quietly. "But I'll be here to protect you for now, honey. Go to sleep, honey."

Rachel closed her eyes and didn't speak, but Quinn knew Rachel wasn't sleeping _and_ she kept crying.

\--

Rachel's first STD panel came back clear, but she got another one several months later to know with certainty. It seemed sad to be grateful for the fact that he didn't give her an STD. The baby continued to grow inside of her and Rachel did her best to love it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Year 2020**

Now that Quinn had a chance to parent her own children, she understood that it took more than just giving birth to a person to make someone a mother. She didn't give birth to either Abby or Sarah, but they were both more her daughters than Beth could ever be. She never witnessed Beth's first word or first step. She never comforted Beth when she was afraid, angry or sad. She gave birth to Beth, but she was a mother only in terms of biology and a mother was more than just biology. She still loved Beth-- she always would, but in the past few years, she'd reconciled herself with the knowledge that she wasn't Beth's mother. So, she looked back on her actions as a confused and angry high school senior with a profound regret. She knew now that she had not been in a position to parent a child back then. She'd known it at the time, too, but she'd been so lost and confused. She'd missed her baby so much that all rational thought was negated by how much she longed for Beth.

But knowing she would have been a terrible mother to Beth didn't make it hurt less that she never got a chance to raise her. She didn't regret giving Beth up-- she knew it was the right thing, but she never stopped wondering what it would have been like to keep her. She'd stayed in touch with Beth and Shelby during the first year of college--it was only over the phone, Skype and email, but was enough.

Then Rachel got pregnant, and decided to keep the baby. And no matter how much Rachel would later take it back and say that it had nothing to do with Quinn, Quinn could never stop thinking about how Rachel was keeping a rapist's baby because of her. They all kind of lost it for a while and Quinn knew she'd been a little unstable. She went into the city as often as she could, and she managed to hold it together for Rachel's sake, but when she was alone back at Yale, she'd drunk dial Beth and Shelby and start to ramble and cry. It was really the only time she'd allowed herself to outwardly spew her inner turmoil.

No wonder Shelby got fed up with it. Quinn knew she would have cut off contact, too, if she'd been in the same shoes. Even when they all started thinking of the baby as Mike's instead of some rapist's, it only made things a _little_ easier to bear. Rachel was tiny, and her appetite was minimal through the pregnancy, so she didn't start showing until she was nearly seven months pregnant. She just looked like she was gaining some weight. The pregnancy had been fairly easy to conceal, especially because Abby had been born in the summer. So, the pregnancy was _physically_ easy, but it was emotionally traumatizing for all of them and the emotional distress manifested itself in different ways for all of them.

Things got a little easier after Abby was born. She was born tiny with a thick shock of black hair and they all fell in love with her the second they set eyes on her. When her hair was dry, it stuck straight up in little spikes, which Mike found hilarious. The baby started to be referred to as "the porcupine." After Abby was born, it was like a weight had been lifted from Rachel and that made things a little easier for everyone else.

Being able to have a relationship with Beth again made the ache in Quinn's heart dissipate a little. It was a relief to see that even if Shelby had been a crappy mom to Rachel, she was a great mom to Beth. She couldn't believe that gorgeous little baby was now nearly ten.

Shelby really wasn't as bad as Quinn thought. She'd been enraged when she found out the way Shelby lied to Rachel-- manipulated her. But Quinn was beginning to come around to Shelby's viewpoint. It was absolutely true that if Shelby had revealed herself to Rachel when they met at the bakery, Quinn would have put the kibosh into that quickly. She also understood what it was like to be desperate for a relationship with Rachel. Quinn would have done anything to have a relationship with Rachel, so she couldn't be bitter that Shelby would do the same.

Still, the older woman had to do a fair amount of groveling for the way she'd lied to Rachel, and Abby seemed completely confused about having to call 'Amelia' Shelby now. Benjamin and Sarah adapted readily to the change without asking any questions.

Shelby was demonstrating through action, not just words, that she really did care about Rachel and the kids. All that mattered to Quinn was that Shelby was good to them and that the kids were comfortable with Shelby and Rachel really seemed to love having a mom.

\--

One of Rachel's favorite things to do when she was alone was to explore the apartment. She'd recently found a hatbox that was filled with old cards from birthdays and holidays. There were numerous postcards as well. She found a Barbra Streisand postcard from Santana, apparently, who'd written "Happy 18th Birthday, boo. Finally legal!" on it. She'd tacked it onto the fridge with a magnet and Santana beamed when she saw it.

Rachel was on a cleaning/exploring frenzy one day early in the New Year. She woke up that morning intent on cleaning the entire apartment. She started out in the kitchen and bathrooms, which were the easiest. She cleaned the kids' rooms next and sorted through toys, books and artwork. She chuckled when she saw the little drawings the children had made in the books and snagged a few of the children's crayoned artwork to frame. This was the problem with cleaning-- one always got distracted with exploratory reminiscence, but in her case, the exploration was necessary.

She finally moved onto the bedroom she shared with Quinn. Cleaning the bedroom was easier than she expected-- for one thing, they didn't store anything under the bed because it was apparently bad feng shui and Mike's mom would have thrown a fit. After her accident, Mike's grandmother and mother flew out to New York and Mike's grandmother reworked the apartment to maximize all of the good energy. Rachel didn't want to rearrange anything-- it meant a lot to her Mike's side of the family would still care so much about them to do that. She just wanted to clean it, and explore while she cleaned.

She finally moved onto the walk-in closet that she and Quinn shared. She organized the clothing first-- she left Quinn's side as is because Quinn may have her own system. No matter how chaotic it appeared to Rachel. Rachel reorganized her closet by type, then color and finally by material. She moved onto the shelves. She got a stepstool to reach the highest shelf and was pulling folded sweaters down, when her hand hit something hard and metallic.

She frowned and groped for it, pulling it forward until she could get a good grasp on it. She realized it was a green tacklebox. It looked old and worn, and she immediately thought it would look better on display. It was the sort of vintage item that was in vogue for decorative purposes rather than functional ones. Rachel thought that was sort of stupid, but she could put their tools into it and set it on the bottom shelf of their console table in their entryway so that it was both functional _and_ decorative, which made more sense to her.

She got pretty excited about it, but she realized it was a little heavier than she thought. She pulled it down and got off the stepstool. She sat on the ground and realized it was locked.

Rachel made a face. This was certainly a crinkle in her plan. She fiddled with it for a while and gave up trying to open it without the use of tools. It didn't look like a complicated lock, so she ran to the utility closet and found a screwdriver.

She got it open in a few minutes.

She squealed when she saw it a leather-bound diary. It was the only thing in the box. This struck Rachel as a little strange, but she was so excited she didn't care.

She opened it to the first page and recognized her own handwriting. She grinned. If it had been Quinn's diary, she would have had to put it away and explained herself to Quinn. But since this was her own diary, there really was no violation.

The first entry was dated March 3, 2014. Rachel smiled giddily. This was during college, while she was pregnant with Abby. She finally had something tangible to give her an idea of what she'd really been like.

_March 3, 2014_

_Dear Diary,_

_The therapist Santana found for me recommended I journal. I've never found any benefit in journaling, but I told everyone that I would try._

 

That was how the first entry started. Rachel's smile faded. Whatever possessed her to write that nearly six years prior, could not have been good. The more she read it, the sicker she felt.

Abby. Her daughter. She wasn't Mike's. She was the daughter of someone she only referred to as HIM or HE. Abby was the product of rape and Mike stepped up to give her daughter his last name and a good, decent father. She cried as she finished the journal entries-- some were longer than others, but it only took a couple of hours to finish the whole thing. Some of the entries sounded more desperate and angry than others, but it was clear that she'd been ambivalent about being pregnant for the entire pregnancy.

She wondered why she never got an abortion-- her journal was more focused on her feelings of violation and fear, her worries that the baby would inherit her biological father's sociopathy, and guilt for allowing Mike to step up for a baby who wasn't his. It was also evident that she'd had an amazing circle of friends. She also finally got some understanding about her relationship with her fathers-- apparently they'd been furious about her pregnancy. They never knew the truth about it-- her younger self had been too ashamed to tell them. It made Rachel sad now, in the present, that her relationship with her fathers became strained because of it. It also made sense why they were so mean to Mike when he was so amazing.

She was hurt and upset that no one told her the truth. She knew it would have been something difficult to disclose, but she thought it was something that she should have known about her own child. It would have been easier to bear coming from people who loved her, whom she trusted to be gentle with difficult truths, than to read it like this.

She cried quietly. It didn't change anything for her. Abby was her sweet little girl. Her angel. Abby looked just like her, but she'd inherited Mike's temperament and sweetness and Quinn's gentleness and kindness. This was clearly an instance of nurture over nature.

But she wished she'd been told, and she was so angry it'd been kept from her.

Wiping her eyes, Rachel picked up the diary and walked to the living room. She ripped the pages out from the diary and fed them into the shredder. She didn't stop until it was all gone. She threw the leather-bound cover away. She wasn't going to allow there to be any evidence of Abby's true paternity.

\--

When Quinn came home that night, the children had already eaten dinner and were playing in Abby and Sarah's room. That was unusual. Rachel liked to spend as much time with the kids as possible, and she never left them alone. They didn't really like being apart from her, either.

Quinn walked to their bedroom. The door was open and Rachel was sitting at the foot of the bed with a suitcase by her feet.

"Rach?" she asked. "What's going on?"

Rachel didn't look at her. "I was cleaning today and I found something."

Quinn frowned. "What?"

"An old diary. I guess a therapist told me to journal. It's from when I was pregnant with Abby." Rachel's voice wobbled. "I know Mike isn't her biological father."

Quinn's heart beat harder. Oh no. No. No. After Rachel woke up from the coma and things calmed down a little, she, Mike and Santana talked about telling Rachel about the truth of Abby's biological father. But Rachel's recovery from the rape had been _brutal_. The physical injuries had long healed by the time Quinn became aware of what happened. But the emotional damage took much longer to heal. Not remembering that Rachel had been raped seemed almost merciful. When she, Mike and Santana decided that they would keep the secret between the three of them, it was only to spare Rachel further pain.

"Rach…" Quinn whispered.

"You should have told me," Rachel accused quietly. "I'm really upset. I've been waiting for you to come home so I could tell you this face to face. I-I need some space. The kids and I are going to stay w-with my mom for a couple days."

The wind was blown out of Quinn's lungs. "You aren't taking my kids," she said softly.

"They're my kids, too."

"You aren't taking my kids," Quinn repeated. "I understand that you need space. I'm sorry I never told you. I had my reasons, and if you need to be away from me, I understand." It hurt like hell, but she understood. When Rachel got into the accident and lapsed into the coma, Quinn thought she'd lose Rachel forever. If Rachel just needed a couple days to cool off, Quinn could survive that. But if this was indicative of something more…long-term, Quinn didn't think she could handle that, so if giving Rachel time away from her could stave that off, Quinn would do it. Quinn swallowed hard. "But you aren't taking my kids with you, especially not to your mother's." She could tolerate Shelby now, but there was just no way in hell she was going to be okay with her girlfriend and their kids going to stay with Shelby so they could be away from _her_.

"I don't want to be without the kids," Rachel entreated quietly. "I've lost a lot of time with them and I don't want to lose more. I'm taking them."

Quinn bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from lashing out. She needed to be gentle. "I don't want to be without the kids, either," Quinn said quietly. She didn't want to be without Rachel, either, for that matter. "Rachel," she said gently. "You aren't taking the kids. It's just not going to happen," she said gently, but firmly.

Rachel's lips compressed into a thin line. "Okay," she acquiesced. "I'm not going to fight with you." She picked up her suitcase and began to pull it out of the room, but Quinn stopped her.

"Rach," Quinn said quietly, putting her hand on Rachel's forearm. "It's better for the kids if they stay here. Taking them to Shelby's is going to confuse them. I'm not trying to be cruel to you."

Rachel softened. "Okay," she murmured. "I-I know you're right. I didn't think of that. I was too upset. But I-I don't want to make things harder for them. I'm sorry," she said softly. "I should go though…m-my mom is expecting me."

She moved to leave, but Quinn stopped her once again by reaching for Rachel's hand. "I'm sorry I never told you. I guess I should be honest with you that we were never going to tell you."

"Who's we?" Rachel asked quietly.

"San, Mike and I," Quinn informed. "We talked about it and we thought it was kinder not to tell you. We thought maybe if you couldn't remember anything, then maybe forgetting about what happened to you was a gift. It's not that I wanted to lie to you or withhold anything. I honestly thought it was better that you didn't know. It just seemed kinder not to tell you."

Rachel dropped the luggage pull. "But it was something I _should_ know."

"Yes," Quinn agreed softly. "But you were already dealing with so much, we didn't want to give you more."

"What was his name? The man who…" Rachel trailed off.

"Gabriel Zhou."

"Who was he?"

"He was older-- you were a sophomore and he was a senior. You only went out on one date with him." Quinn swallowed thickly. "He was just some guy," she said quietly. "He wasn't…" she trailed off uncomfortably, because she wanted to say "he wasn't anything special," because it was true. He was _nothing_ , but really, it seemed minimizing to say that about the man who'd violated her girlfriend.

"What happened to him? Do you know?"

"A few weeks before he was supposed to graduate, he got kicked out of school because of a drug-related arrest. Apparently, the police got an anonymous tip."

Rachel bit her lip. "Did that come from one of us?"

"I'm not sure. We all denied it. I know you didn't do it. And I swear, I didn't. But there's a possibility that Mike or Santana could have done it. They were…looking for a way to get him. Anyway, a few years later, he was killed when he was fucking around near a train platform while he was drunk." She paused. "We were all glad."

Rachel swallowed hard. "So, he never went to jail for what he…did to me?"

Quinn sighed. "You were scared…and ashamed. You…you wanted to just put it all behind you. You never told the police."

Rachel bit her lip contemplatively. "Do you believe in karma?"

Quinn blinked. "What?"

"Do you believe in karma?" Rachel asked again.

"I think so" Quinn said. "Well, kind of. I don't believe in reincarnation, but I think the way we treat people matters. I've done…" she sighed heavily. "I've done some pretty bad things, and I feel like I've paid for them in other ways."

Rachel swallowed visibly. "Do you think my accident was karma for not telling the police about him? I can't imagine I was the only girl he…did that to."

Quinn took a few heavy steps back, as if she'd been physically hit. "No!" she exclaimed. "I can't…" she shook her head. "I can't even think about a world where that would be considered _just_ , Rachel. Bad things happen to good people."

Rachel sighed and took a few steps forward and put her arms around Quinn. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was just so shocked. I…I overreacted. I…know you were just trying to protect me. I guess I…" she sighed. "I guess I thought if I had to know, I'd rather have heard it from you than have to read it."

"I understand," Quinn whispered. She never thought about the diary. She thought Rachel destroyed it years ago. She regretted the decision now, because she could only imagine what that must have been like for Rachel.

"I got rid of the diary," Rachel informed softly. "I ripped out all the pages and I shredded it. No one is going to find out about this, right?"

"Right," Quinn whispered.

"Is there a-anything else that might make the truth come out?"

"None that I'm aware of, Rach."

Things were quiet between them as they simply held onto one another. Rachel's mind was working a million miles an hour as she thought about her daughter. Abby was just so _sweet_ , Rachel couldn't fathom her origins. Rachel sighed. She knew Quinn and their friends had only tried to protect her.

"I-I'm going to stay i-if that's okay with you."

Quinn smiled tenderly. "Of _course_ it's okay," she said. She sniffled. "I don't want you to leave."

Rachel held onto Quinn tighter. She rubbed her forehead into Quinn's shoulder. "I didn't want to really leave either," she admitted quietly. "I thought I needed space, but I can't imagine being away from you and the kids."

Quinn swallowed hard. "I can't imagine that either."

Rachel pulled away and wiped at her eyes. "I should call my mom and tell her we're not coming."

Quinn sniffled. "Did you tell her about…"

"No, I just told her I needed some space. I'll tell her we worked it out. I don't want her to know anyway."

"Okay," Quinn said.

Rachel sniffed. "She told me once that she stopped letting you see Beth when we were in college because you were unstable and behaving erratically. It was because of…that, wasn't it?"

Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat. "I loved you for a long time," she said quietly. "We weren't even together yet then, but I was so in love with you." She gave Rachel a sad smile as she thought back to that awful time-- it still hurt just as much. "When you love someone that much, seeing them hurt can really mess you up." She gave Rachel a wavering smile. "I was pretty messed up for a while," she confessed hoarsely.

Rachel's face trembled and she stepped forward to hug Quinn again.

Rachel sniffled and kissed Quinn's cheek. She knew Quinn had a point-- it was kind of a gift to have forgotten. Although the distress in her younger self's diary entries were palatable, she couldn't remember ever being hurt. It was a shock to find out the truth in Abby's origins. She wasn't afraid, especially because her rapist was dead. She didn't feel hurt or violated or the myriad of other things the younger version of herself had felt writing those journal entries, because it was like it happened to an entirely different person. And she could see why Quinn, Mike and Santana decided to keep this from her. Now that she thought more about it, she thought maybe she would have done the same in their shoes.

It was just that this was such an important thing to know about her child. She was still upset she wasn't told, but she didn't think she needed to leave the building to deal with it anymore. She really wasn't angry at anyone though-- it was just going to take a while for her to digest what she learned.

\--

Santana was nervous the next morning as she took the subway to Rachel and Quinn's apartment. Her heart actually skipped a couple beats when she got Quinn's text message last night, and she knew she would have to talk to Rachel to actually get things squared away.  
\--

Rachel opened the front door and gave her a bright smile. "Hi, Santana."

"Hi, boo. Can I come in?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Of course you can."

They walked side-by-side into the kitchen. Rachel playfully knocked her shoulder into Santana's.

"You seem nervous. Why are you so nervous?"

Santana smiled fondly at her. "I'm not nervous. I'm just…trying to wrap my head around this." She sat down at the table and smiled gratefully when Rachel poured her a mug of coffee and set a blueberry scone in front of her.

"You don't have to feed me, Rach."

Rachel smiled. "It's the polite thing to do, boo."

They sat for a while, sipping from their coffees and chatting about inconsequential things.

"I'm just going to talk about the elephant in the room, okay, boo?"

"Okay."

"Quinn told me you found about Abby's biological father." Santana swallowed visibly. She still boiled with rage when she thought back to that time. She was glad Gabe Zhou was dead. Sometimes, she still wished she'd killed him herself.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry we never told you," Santana said quietly. She bit her lip and tented her fingers. She leaned back in her chair and gazed at Rachel pensively. "I'm just…I'm sorry about everything, boo."

Rachel bit her lip. "I know that Quinn probably wouldn't have told me. But would you?"

"No," Santana said bluntly. "Never."

"Why?" Rachel asked softly. She wondered if Quinn and Santana would have different reasons.

"I had no intention of ever telling you," Santana said flatly. "Mike and Quinn both contemplated telling you, because they both thought it was something you should know. But I was against it from the beginning. They didn't really want to tell you and I didn't want you to know, and it wasn't hard to convince them. If you're mad that we never told you, it was really because I swayed Mike and Quinn since they were leaning my way anyway. If you're going to be mad at anyone, be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at anyone anymore," Rachel said quietly.

It was a distressing topic for Santana-- Rachel could tell. She wanted to drop it as quickly as possible to spare her friend the pain. But she had some lingering questions.

"How did you know that he actually…did something to me, and not that I just…regretted it afterward or…or…something…" Rachel trailed off.

"We were living together," Santana informed. "You went on a date with Gabe on a Friday, and Mike and I hadn't heard from you. I was staying at Brit's for the weekend. By Saturday, when we couldn't reach you, we knew something was wrong." She swallowed hard. "It was really obvious something was wrong, Rach. You were pretty banged up, too," she admitted quietly. "It wasn't like you just regretted it. He assaulted you."

"Why didn't I just…go to the police?"

"You were scared," Santana said defensively. Then she realized she was defending Rachel against herself, which was sort of absurd. "You were in shock," Santana said softly. "He really hurt you," Santana said quietly. The bruises and marks had taken a long time to fade and heal. She could still remember the bruises and bite marks. Even though Rachel never gave her a lot of details on the night, Santana still clearly remembered seeing abrasions on Rachel's knees and palms-- as though she'd crawled away. That lingered with Santana to this day-- the thought of her best friend crawling away on her hands and knees like a wounded animal.

Rachel swallowed hard. "I should have been braver," she said quietly, filled with self-reproach. She wondered just how cowardly she'd been.

"You _were_ brave. You still are." Santana said. "But it took all of your energy just to get up and get to class, boo. I just…I don't think you had enough energy to do anything else."

Rachel sighed. "How many other girls do you think he hurt after me?"

"As awful as this sounds," Santana said quietly. "I don't care about those other girls." She'd thought about Gabe Zhou's potential victims on occasion, but none of them were more important to her than Rachel. Any time she let herself think about them, she pictured Rachel, violated, injured, and crying as she crawled away from her attacker. To this day, Santana had no idea how Rachel got home--Rachel had _never_ remembered how she got home that night. Likely, it'd been so traumatic, Rachel willfully forgot it, only to be permanently forgotten years later.  
There was no way a compassionate human being with a basic sense of empathy could have expected Rachel to think of the greater good during that time. "I cared about _you_ and my concern at the time was making sure that you were okay. You could barely remember to take a shower without me telling you to, Rachel. There was no way you could talk to the police or worry about anyone other than yourself. No regrets."

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek. "You really took care of me," she stated quietly. Rachel couldn't remember, but she had no doubt in her mind Santana took good care of her when she really needed to be taken care of.

"Of course," Santana said softly. "I loved you so much. You were one of my best friends, Rach. I just want you to understand something, okay? It took a really long time for you to get better and be yourself again, and I guess we were all worried that if we told you about what happened to you, it would set you back again. It was painful enough to see it the first time, but seeing it again…" Santana shook her head. "None of us wanted to put you through that again. And you've had a hard enough time since the accident. We didn’t want to heap more shit on you."

Rachel nodded. "I understand," she said quietly. "But I just…I wish you guys would all know that I'm stronger than you guys think. I'm not going to break in half, you know. Abby is my daughter-- no matter what the origins are, I'm happy to have her. I think…" she spoke haltingly. "I think what happened to me back then hurts you guys more than it hurts me now," she said softly. "And if…talking about this hurts you, we won't ever have to talk about it again."

Santana gave her a small smile. "If you need to talk about it, I'm here, boo."

It was really beginning to hit Rachel now. She'd been angry because some basic piece of information had been withheld from her. But what she considered a basic piece of information was some of the most painful memories in the lives of people she loved. It hurt them because they loved her and she realized how lucky she was to have found people who loved her so much that her pain became their pain.

Rachel hugged Santana. "Thank you for being my best friend," she whispered. "I never really knew how much you've always taken care of me."

Santana laughed softly. "I haven't always taken care of you. I was a total bitch to you for most of our lives, actually. But I love you so much, boo. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"I get that," Rachel said quietly. "Thank you for everything, especially for all the things I can't even remember."

Santana chuckled. "You idiot, you don't have to thank me for anything."

Rachel laughed. "I love you, boo."

Santana swallowed hard. "I love you, too, boo."

\--

Mike had expected Rachel to call. He'd received a text from Quinn late last night and wanted to call immediately to speak to Rachel, but it was late and he knew he would be hearing from Rachel soon anyway. He wanted to allow her the space to come to him.

He kept his phone on him through rehearsal and when he heard it ringing, he asked for a break to take the call. He needed some privacy and walked outside.

"Hi, Rach."

"Hi, Mike."

He sighed heavily. "So you know now."

"Yeah."

"It doesn't change anything. Abby is my daughter. She's always been mine. My name is on the birth certificate." He knew he was sounding a little defensive, but he tended to get a little defensive when it came to Abby. He'd chosen Abigail (meaning: father's joy) for a reason.

"I know," Rachel said quietly. "I would never try to take that away from you. I just…um…I guess I want to know why you would take on that kind of responsibility if you didn't have to."

"I loved you," Mike said simply.

That was the recurring theme she'd heard in her life thus far-- people doing extraordinary things simply because they loved her. Since the accident, she'd fixated a great deal on what she'd lost, but nearly every day something proved to her how much she still had.

"Enough to take on another man's baby?" Rachel pressed.

"Yes," Mike confirmed softly.

"Why?" Rachel whispered.

"I don't know," Mike admitted. "What I felt for you was never rational. You've always possessed that special something-- I've always seen it, you know. But I was lonely that first year in New York, and you and San were there. We spent a lot of time together, and when a person gets to know you, it's hard not to fall in love with you, Rach."

"Thank you, Mike," Rachel said softly, touched. She swallowed back the lump that had risen in her throat. "But how could…why would you want to take it on a _baby_?"

"Because if you were going to keep the baby, I knew I'd love it. And I do, Rach. It doesn't matter if someone else is Abby's bio father. I'm her real father-- I love her, I've raised her and as far as the world knows, she's _mine_. She needed a dad, and I loved her because I loved you."

It was difficult for Rachel to believe she was deserving of the love all these people seemed to bestow on her. She hoped she actually was worthy.

"Did I ever thank you for everything you've done for me?"

Mike chuckled. "Of course you did," he said affectionately. "You've always had really good manners. I'm glad they'll be passed down to our kids."

Rachel laughed, but her laughter soon faded. "Did you ever regret it?" she asked somberly.

"Never," Mike said softly. "You, me, and Quinn, we didn't last forever. But I never once regretted it. We just weren't the kind of people who could share one another for long. You and Quinn were always meant to be, and I love Tina. She's the woman I was meant to be with. But I'll always be grateful for what we had. When we were together, it was always good."

Rachel smiled tearfully. "Our kids are so lucky to have you as a dad."

"Thanks, Rach," Mike said quietly. "It's nice to hear, you know. They're pretty lucky to have you and Quinn as moms, too. " He drew in a shaky breath. "I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't made it, sweetheart. I'm so glad I still have you as my friend, and I am really happy the kids still have you as their mom. They're so, so lucky."

Rachel sniffled. "Are they really? Because sometimes I think it would have been easier if I'd died in the accident. That way--"

"Don't _ever_ say that," Mike interrupted. "Maybe you don't remember the first twenty four years of your life anymore, but you're still you. Don't ever say the kids would have been better off without you. Kids are resilient and they're surviving this. They're okay, Rach."

Rachel sniffled. "But it's just been so hard on them. Especially Abby. I know they have to be so confused and I feel like I'm just re-traumatizing them _all_ the time."

"You dying would have been much more traumatic," Mike said softly. "Believe me."

Rachel sniffed. "Okay."

"Just…don't ever tell that to Quinn," Mike said. "At least, not right now. Maybe in a few years, or even a few months. But right now, if you told Quinn you thought it would be better for the kids if you'd died, I think that would just be more than she could handle right now."

"I won't," Rachel promised softly.

"We're one of the lucky ones, Rach. I know things have been hard for you, but we’re lucky. We've made it through and we're just going to keep going."

"Yeah," Rachel agreed.

It wasn't about a second chance at life or some other life-affirming cliché about carpe diem or life being some kind of gift. It was just about being a good person, not completely fucking up and hoping to be one of the lucky ones. The business of living could be decidedly life-negating and soul-crushing, and she'd had her fair share of heartache and tribulations, but Rachel had a gorgeous girlfriend, beautiful children, great friends and a career that her trusty agent told her was waiting for her to return to. There was no doubt that she was one of the lucky ones and when one was fortunate enough to be lucky, one had to keep going even when it seemed easier to give up.

  
\--


	13. Chapter 13

**Year 2014**

After her assault, Rachel tried to live life day-by-day. It was the most she was capable of. She was just trying to put herself back together. It definitely demanded more fortitude than she actually possessed and she was only managing to force her eyes open in the morning because she had support from her friends. She felt guilty because she could see very easily the toll it was taking on them, but she didn't think she could survive this without them. She knew she was being selfish, but she needed them.

She'd thought a lot about karma lately-- especially as her pregnancy advanced and it became difficult to forget what happened to her. She became especially consumed with thoughts about what she'd done to Cassandra July just a few days before she went on that date with Gabe. She'd been rough, disrespectful and demeaning. Even though she'd ensured Cassandra consented, she'd still treated the professor horribly.

She'd ruminated on it for months, but she was too ashamed to ever ask Cassandra about it. But she felt the need to apologize. She'd avoided the professor since it happened, but Rachel didn't think she could move on with her life until she talked to Cassandra to make sure that Cassandra had actually wanted it that day, and to apologize either way.

\--

Santana and Mike rarely left her alone-- they were her personal bodyguards Monday through Fridays. Quinn came into the city every weekend now and when she visited she became yet another bodyguard. Most of the time, it was actually a relief to never be alone-- she felt safer that way. But she was plagued by thoughts that she could have made someone else feel even a fraction of what Gabriel made her feel and she couldn't cope with it any longer. She was too ashamed to tell her friends about how she felt, so she knew she would have to do it alone. Even if Cassandra July was her sworn enemy whom she was kind of afraid of. It was hard to get some alone time, but Rachel found a way.

She found Cassandra in the studio one day. She knew Cassandra didn't have a class for the rest of the day and this was a good time to talk to her. She watched Cassandra for a moment as the older woman danced. She was so graceful and Rachel still admired the way she moved. She ached for that kind of talent. She was a singer and an actress and she could hold her own as a dancer. But she wished she could be as talented as Cassandra in the way she moved.

"Get in here, Schwimmer."

Startled, Rachel froze for a moment, before tentatively stepping inside. She left the studio door open, just in case.

"Hi, Ms. July," Rachel said quietly. She averted eye contact. "I-I wanted to ask you something."

Cassandra snorted. "Yes, you do look like the Pillsbury Dough Girl."

Rachel flinched. She was self-conscious about the weight she gained, even if it wasn't very much. She was getting prenatal care, but she was being pushed to gain a little more weight. She just couldn't seem to put much on with the pregnancy, which was hilarious considering she felt she gained weight quickly when she wasn't pregnant. "Do you remember when we…" she trailed off weakly.

"When we what, Schwimmer?" Cassandra snapped. "I don't have all day and if you're going to waste my time by standing there simpering with your big cow eyes, you need to get the hell out of my studio now."

"When we had sex," Rachel blurted in a whisper.

Cassandra smirked. "We had sex, Schwimmer? If we did, it must have been totally forgettable and nothing special. That suits you."

Rachel bit her lip, unsure if the other woman was serious. Maybe Cassandra had so much sex that she didn't even count as a notch on the bedpost. "I--" she cleared her throat. "We…we did have sex," she stammered in case Cassandra really did forget. "And I-I w-wanted to make s-sure that you…that you actually wanted it and that I didn't…" she swallowed hard. "Force you," she choked out.

Cassandra blinked and she knew she would have to stop behaving like a soiled tampon for a minute. "No, Rachel," she said calmly. "You did not force me."

Rachel sighed with relief. Her shoulders slumped-- that had taken nearly all the energy she possessed. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Rachel sniffed. "Are you just trying to spare my feelings?"

"When have I ever bothered sparing _your_ feelings."

Rachel gave her a small smile. "That's true enough," she acknowledged. She sniffled again and tried not to cry. "Okay, thank you." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you that day. I'm sorry I was so disrespectful that day. You didn't deserve that."

For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt better-- close to her former self. It figured it would take someone being mean to her to make her feel better. Mike had always been sweet to her, but Santana and Quinn had spent significant amounts of time making her feel awful. Now they were all so gentle with her-- almost too gentle. It made her feel better and safe, but Cassie just treating her normally made her feel normal, too.

"Yeah, Schwimmer. Whatever."

"I won't keep you anymore," Rachel said quietly, backing away.

"Schwim?"

"Yes?" Rachel whispered.

"I heard you went out on a date with Gabe Zhou a while back."

Grief passed over Rachel's features. "Yes?" Rachel whispered.

"You should stay away from him. He's not one of the good ones."

Semester after semester, Cassandra July had seen some wide-eyed ingénue type go out with Gabe Zhou. At least one girl a semester had left NYADA after going out with him. Cassandra had her suspicions, but no one had ever confirmed them for her. She'd kept an eye on Rachel and though the girl put up a brave front, Cassandra could see an exhausted person when she saw one.

"I will," Rachel said quietly. She gave Cassandra a teary smile and started to retreat.

 

 

"Schwimmer."

Rachel sniffled. "Yes?"

"Girls have a way of leaving school after they go out with him. You're nothing special, but you're better than that."

Rachel gave her a frail smile. "Thank-you," she said hoarsely and fled the room.

Cassandra watched Rachel flee and pursed her lips. That was confirmation enough for her.

\--

The pregnancy was mercifully easy. It was pretty textbook, actually. She still wasn't gaining much weight, but she was healthy. She wasn't showing yet and she didn't have any dance classes this semester, so she thought it could be possible to hide her pregnancy until the end of the school year. She just wasn't ready to have anyone know. They got out in early June, and her due date was in the first week of August. She thought she could hide it from classmates if she didn't totally balloon up before school got out. Most of her classmates were assholes and she could handle 'fat' comments, but she wasn't sure she could handle 'slut' slurs.

So, maybe she could hide it from the school, but she couldn't hide it from her fathers. She hadn't told them yet, but she knew she'd have to tell them soon. But she couldn't handle the idea of telling her fathers what happened to her-- it would destroy them. She couldn't do that to them. She knew they would be disappointed in her for getting pregnant, but it was better they thought she was some ignorant trollop than a victim. She was afraid they'd try to take matters into their own hands and she could not deal with that.

She and Mike went back to Lima during Spring Break to tell their parents, and Santana and Quinn came home with them to extend support. If her parents picked up on the weight she gained, they didn't comment on it. They were just happy to see her. She spent a few days in her childhood home, and it was nice to be back. She'd missed her dads so much and it was just nice to be back-- she never thought she'd think that way of _Lima_. But it wasn't Lima she missed-- she missed her dads. Being around them again was nice. But she felt so burdened by the secrets she was keeping and soon she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't tell her parents everything, but she had to tell her parents she was pregnant.

She thought about telling them herself, but Mike insisted he wanted to be with her when she broke the news to her parents. She called Mike over and her parents looked puzzled by her serious expression.

"Daddies," she said quietly. She bit the inside of her cheek and willed herself not to cry. "I have to tell you both something."

Her fathers exchanged glances, both clearly unnerved by her expression. "What is it, Rachelah?"

"Daddies. I think you've both noticed that I've gained some weight," she whispered. They never mentioned anything, so maybe she was more self-conscious about it than anything else. She took a deep breath. "I don't know where to start, so I'm just going to say it. I'm pregnant. And I'm keeping the baby."

Mike held her hand tightly in his. "It's my baby, sirs," he said calmly. "And I promise you that I'll do right by Rachel and the baby."

Her daddy LeRoy looked so disappointed. "Rachel, how many times have we talked to you about using protection? Is this what you wanted? To be a mother at nineteen?"

"What about school?" her other father asked. "You aren't dropping out of school, are you?"

"No, daddy," Rachel whispered. "My due date is in August. I'm not taking time off. Mike, Quinn and Santana all said they'd help me"

Her fathers shook their heads.

"Honestly, Rachel. I'm a little baffled by your choices lately. First almost marrying Finn and now this. I don't understand how it could have been so difficult to use a condom or get on birth control."

Mike's grip on Rachel's hand tightened. He could feel himself start to lose his temper. None of this was Rachel's fault and he wished Rachel would tell her fathers what happened to her. It would be difficult, but she needed their support-- not their disapproval.

Rachel bit her lip. She didn't have a choice with the condom, and she wasn't on birth control because she'd only had female partners in college. When she went on the date with Gabe, she didn't have any intention to have sex with him. This wasn't something she was ready for-- she never though this could happen to her. She mostly carried a rape whistle around in high school as a precaution, but she never believed something so bad could happen to her.

"I'm sorry, daddies," Rachel whispered.

"Rachel, we are so disappointed in you," LeRoy said. "What do you think you're going to do with the baby? Are you expecting your father and I to raise it? We didn't sign on for that. We're getting older, Rachel. We don't have the energy or the time to raise a baby."

Rachel held back a floodgate of tears. "No," she whispered. "I would never expect you and Daddy to…pay for my mistakes. I'm going to raise the baby, I promise."

"How?" Hiram challenged. "You're essentially living off us, so even if we don't raise the baby, we'll still be supporting it. We are so disappointed in you, Rachel. I thought we taught you better than this."

"Hey," Mike snapped. He was pushed to his absolute limit. "She didn't do anything wrong. You have no reason to be disappointed in Rachel. I'm involved. Even if you didn't help, I would never let the baby or Rachel go hungry."

"That's enough from you, Michael," Hiram snapped back. "How long have you even been dating our daughter?"

"That's irrelevant," Mike said. "This is my baby and Rachel is your daughter. You should be supporting her, not haranguing her."

"Do you know what is relevant, Mike? How you plan to support our daughter."

"Daddy," Rachel sniffed. "Please don't be mean to him. You don't even know--"

"Rachel, how long could it have possibly taken to just use a condom?" LeRoy interrupted. "We've been telling you about safer sex practices since you were eleven years old. How could this happen? Even if you didn't use a condom, you could have used emergency contraception-- are you telling me that you couldn't manage to get some Plan B in five days?"

Rachel's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry for disappointing you both. I'm so disappointed in myself, too."

Mike had it. He couldn't hear anymore. "No," Mike said. "Stop apologizing," he said. "Rach, can you go to your room for a little while I talk to your dads?"

"But--"

"Please, Rach."

Rachel hesitated, but she ultimately left.

It was a few minutes later that she heard shouting between her fathers and Mike. She bit her lip and was ready to intervene, but it quieted down again. Minutes after that, Mike came into her room. "Rach? Come on. Let's go see a movie, okay?"

"But my dads--" she protested weakly.

"I think we all just need some time to cool off. I'll bring you home later, okay?"

"Okay."

They told Mike's parents the next day-- they didn't take the news much better, but Mike was protective and she allowed him to do all the talking. His mother hugged her before she and Mike left the house, and Rachel thought that perhaps Mike inherited his kindness from his mother. His father didn't really look at either of them, and she felt so bad that Mike was straining his relationship with his parents, particularly his dad, just for her.

\--

It was awkward with her fathers for the next few days. They didn't talk to her or really look at her which made her feel awful, like she was invisible to them. Her worst punishments were always when they gave her the silent treatment. But when she left to go back to school, they both hugged her.

"We'll be fine, Rachelah," her father reassured.

"It's just going to take us a little longer to accept that our baby is having a baby," her other father, LeRoy, added. "It's not what we wanted for you, but it's going to be okay."

"But we love you, no matter what. Unconditionally. We're upset that you're so young and that this could have been prevented. We're disappointed in you and Michael. But people make mistakes and we love you and we'll love our grandbaby. We promise. Just give us a little time to get adjusted to this, honey."

She gave them both a weak smile. "Okay, daddies," she said quietly.

\--  
Mike's dad gave her the contact number of a former schoolmate from medical school who was apparently a very good ob/gyn.

"He's expecting your call," Dr. Chang told her.

She accepted it gratefully.

\--

Things got a little easier when she got back to school. She stopped seeing Gabe Zhou around campus-- he'd apparently gotten caught up in some sort of illegal drug scandal during the break and had gotten kicked out of school. The case was a District Attorney's office reject, but the school still found it fit to expel him just a couple months before graduation. Apparently, the police had been tipped off by an anonymous source and he was arrested for possession with intent to sell. He'd apparently had a very good attorney-- he came from family money, and so Rachel was glad that she never filed charges against him for what he did to her. She could just imagine some shark of an attorney tearing her apart on the stand. She would never be able to suffer through that humiliation. But that family attorney wasn't good enough to keep him at NYADA-- apparently Carmen Tibideaux was taking an implacably hard line. Gabe wasn't even allowed on campus or security would be called. Rachel sent Ms. Tibideaux an anonymous bouquet of flowers for that-- Rachel felt so much safer on the school campus knowing he was gone.

She went into labor on the first of August. It was a relief-- she was so done with the pregnancy by then that she just wanted the baby out of her.

It took twelve hours, but she finally had a beautiful baby in her arms. Rachel had to admit Abby was a little gross when she first popped out, but once she was cleaned up and dried off, her baby was so _pretty_. Rachel knew she was probably blinded by love, but Abby didn't even really look like a newborn-- all monkey alien-like. She looked like a _baby_ , all cute and a little pink.

She'd resented the pregnancy the entire time, but once she had the baby in her arms, the resentment went away. This was her baby. Not Gabe's. He was the father only in terms of biology, but she'd already learned in her life that there was more to being a parent than mere biology. One of her fathers had no biological relationship to her at all, but both her fathers loved her. And Shelby was her biological mother, but she'd rejected her again and again. Mike was Abby's father-- he was the one who held her, counted her fingers and toes and memorized every inch of her tiny face.

It seemed like their entire world fell in love with Abby on first sight. Santana, Quinn and Brittany were all there on the day Abby was born, and each of them had a hard time letting Abby go so that someone else could hold her.

Religious faith was important to Mike, so when he wanted to give the baby a Biblical name, Rachel readily agreed, especially because Quinn agreed with the sentiment quite vociferously. Given all the support Quinn and Santana gave her, Rachel wanted them to have input in naming the baby, too. They tossed around a few names, but when Mike suggested the name "Abigail" which meant "father's joy," everyone agreed to it quickly.

Abby was loved immediately and intensely-- she was a sweet-natured baby and just so _easy_. She didn't cry much unless she needed to be changed or fed. Rachel had always wanted children, but once she had Abby, she really wanted more children. Not right away or anything, but she definitely wanted more kids. She just wasn't sure if she would get as lucky with other children as she did with Abby. The baby was constantly photographed-- everyone was obsessed with the baby and Rachel had faith that as long as she had her friends, she could do right by her daughter.

She wished she could say that her love for Abby mended every rip and tear in her, but it didn't. She loved Abby with every ounce of her being, and nothing gave her greater joy than holding her baby all day. Rachel promised herself that this baby would never know the truth of her origins. Seeing how pure and innocent Abby was, how helpless and sweet, Rachel knew Abby had nothing to do with the sins of her biological father. Abby would smile and Rachel was too helpless to do anything but smile back. But there was still a lot inside of her that was in a state of turmoil, and no amount of love for Abby could change that.

After the initial high from giving birth and seeing Abby for the first time, reality set in. She felt hopeless and sad a lot and she felt horrible and guilty for it because Abby was _perfect_. She kept it to herself-- she didn't want to worry anyone, not when they'd already done enough for her. She knew herself well enough to know that she was a long way from being okay. But knowing it and admitting it were two different things and it would take her a long time for her to learn to ask for help.

What Rachel would later learn was this: asking for help was painful and humbling, but learning how to do so was absolutely vital to one's survival.

\--

 

Time passed quickly when one was raising a baby. Mike found an apartment in the same building as Rachel and Santana's and moved in, so he could be as close to the baby as possible.  
Soon Rachel's junior year started and most of her classmates were none the wiser about her baby. Between exercising at every opportunity and breastfeeding, she dropped the baby weight pretty quickly. Santana and Quinn raised the baby with her and Mike, and she truly understood what it meant when people said that it took a village to raise a child. Even Brittany helped out as much as she could and Rachel would be forever grateful to her. Rachel had her village and she would have been lost without it.

Rachel and Mike started dating. He was the father of her baby, so, it only seemed natural. But she found it difficult to be intimate with him. She liked kissing him-- he was a _really_ good kisser, and he was so kind and protective, she felt safe with him. He'd _always_ been nice to her, even when they were still in Lima and she was the school untouchable loser, so she didn't think he was just pitying her. But a six full months after Abby was born, she still hadn't had sex with him. It just seemed too daunting. She'd try, and all she could remember was the last time when she'd struggled helplessly through it. It was awful to know she just hadn't been strong enough and she was so angry with herself for not listening to that little voice inside of her that told her not to go out with him.

She was grateful for her baby, but she hated Gabriel Zhou. It was incredibly confusing because she wouldn't have Abby if he hadn't raped her. But it's not like she'd ever be _grateful_ to him for raping her.

When Abby was seven months old, Mike gently suggested that Rachel get back into therapy, this time with a different therapist. It started to get more difficult to pretend like everything was okay and the cracks started to show. He suspected she had postpartum depression, and he was later proven correct. She felt so guilty and like such a failure as a mother. She had plenty of "bad mother" dreams in the last month of her pregnancy, which was apparently very common. But she'd actually been kind of proud of herself as a mother-- Abby was healthy and seemed like such a healthy baby. Being told she had postpartum depression was devastating. She felt like she had nothing to be depressed about and that meant she was a terrible mother. She did feel a little better when her therapist told her postpartum depression was practically a given considering the traumatic circumstances around Abby's conception. Dr. Miers prescribed Effexor, which Rachel initially resisted, because she'd still been breastfeeding at the time and it was known to be potentially hazardous when nursing. But she talked about it with her Mike and their friends, and they made her realize it would be the best thing for Abby. As Dr. Miers said, a depressed breast-feeding mother posed a greater risk to a child than a non-breastfeeding mother on medication.

Things got a little better with the medication and more therapy. She still felt afraid, but it stopped being a generalized fear of _everything_ and a more specific fear of being a bad mother, a bad girlfriend and bad friend, which were sort of normal fears, really. She still had nightmares and flashbacks to the night of Abby's conception which made it very difficult to have a sexual relationship with Mike, but she was fortunate that he was patient with her.

She was fortunate they were all so patient with her.

\--

Families changed, and sometimes they had to be created. For Rachel, her friends became her family. She often came home from school, work, rehearsal or an audition to find Abby dozing on someone's chest-- Mike's, Santana's, Quinn's or Brittany's. They used a daycare center for those hours when they were all away from home, but no one wanted Abby in daycare longer than necessary. It was hard for Rachel to believe so many people be willing to adjust their lives so much for _her_.

Rachel expected Mike, Quinn and Brittany to be good with kids, but she was surprised to see Santana go _crazy_ for Abby. If Santana was in the room with Abby, it was highly likely that Abby was holding court with Santana as her loyal subject. Abby loved to put her hand in Santana's mouth, and she'd squeal when Santana would gently gum it, making bear noises. Abby would light up at the mere sight of Santana, and Rachel thought of Santana as Abby's mom, too. In truth, Rachel thought of Quinn as being Abby's mom as well, because Quinn just _enveloped_ the baby with love.

She'd always had this lingering unspecified _thing_ with Quinn after their relationship fizzled, which only became more pronounced after Abby was born. She'd felt it with Santana, too, but Santana just seemed off-limits after the reconciliation with Brittany. But Quinn was still single, and even if they decided that a relationship was inadvisable after Quinn's romance with Coffee Shop Girl fizzled, something had always lingered between them. She would never cheat on Mike, but Rachel knew she was in love with two people. She was not a stranger to a polyamorous relationship, but when she'd had one with Santana and Quinn, she'd at least been able to satisfy their physical urges.

She was in love with Mike and Quinn, and it wasn't that she never wanted to have sex again. She actually really did want to have sex-- how could she really want to abstain from something that felt so good? She just wasn't sure she would be able to. Her last memory of sex had been frightening, and she couldn't seem to erase the memory or make it less painful. She knew Mike was incapable of violating her like that-- he'd proven himself to her over and over again. But fears weren't always rational.

She also started to sense Mike and Quinn were attracted to one another. They both told her they loved her, and she had no doubt in her mind that they did. But they also started to look at one another the way they looked at her. She didn't want them to leave her behind, but she didn't want to be selfish. Mike had taken on the responsibility of a baby that wasn't his for _her_. And Quinn was clearly deeply traumatized by what happened. Quinn came to New York every weekend after she found out, wreaking havoc on her own schedule. Rachel wanted to be as unselfish as she could be for them.

Rachel sat them down together one day.

"Mike, you know that I love you, don't you? So much."

He smiled at her. "Of course, I know. I love you, too."

She looked at Quinn. She wrung her hands nervously. "Quinn, you know that I love you, too, don't you?

Quinn chuckled. "Yes, I know. I love you, too. Are we writing a Dr. Seuss book? Because honestly, I think we’re more Roald Dahl people."

Rachel smiled. "I can’t wait to read 'The Witches' to Abby with you guys," she said sincerely. And this was the thing-- when she imagined raising her daughter, she couldn't picture her life without her friends. She pictured herself putting on little plays with her daughter with Mike, Quinn, Brittany and Santana. But when she thought about reading her daughter bedtime stories, she saw Quinn and Mike, crowded with her around Abby's bed.

"As soon as she's old enough to understand it," Mike said with a laugh. "But I will want to read her 'James and the Giant Peach' first."

"My favorite is 'Matilda,'" Quinn offered. "I'd really like it if we read 'Matilda' to her."

Rachel gave Quinn a small smile. She suspected Quinn identified with the protagonist of that book a little too closely.

"I'm in love you both," Rachel said quietly. She gave Mike an apologetic look. "I'm sorry," she said softly. She didn't want to spring it on him like this, but she didn't want to lie to him either.

Mike gave her a small smile. "Rach, I know," he said softly. "I know you guys were together your freshman year." He paused. "Santana, too, right? I'm not blind. I know. That doesn't change anything. I love you and we have a baby together."

"But you guys love one another, too, right?" Rachel blurted.

Mike and Quinn both lurched back.

"It's okay," Rachel said. "I-I've seen the way you look at one another. I-I can't…" she swallowed painfully. She was still so ashamed. "I can't have sex yet. But I don't want to deprive either of you--"

"Deprive?" Mike blurted. "Jesus, Rachel. Deprive? That's what masturbating is for."

The moment he said it, he made a face and then turned bright red/

They all shared a quiet laugh at his expense. Quinn patted his back gently while smiling at him, and the gesture seemed so intimate for a simple pat on the back

"It's not the same thing," Rachel said somberly.

"I know," Mike said. "Believe me, I know. But there's more to a relationship than just sex."

"So, you're saying you don't miss it?" Rachel challenged.

Mike sighed. "I only had sex with three people ever," he told her quietly. "It's not like I have a lot to miss. I love you, Rachel. We have a baby together. That fucking bastard--" he trailed off. He still wanted to kill Gabriel Zhou. Sometimes, when he lied in bed with Rachel while she slept and she had a violent nightmare, he wished he had the guts to give Gabriel Zhou that strawberry smoothie. Sometimes, it scared him to think about how much he would have enjoyed the sight of Gabriel not realizing he'd consumed something he was allergic to until it was too late. He would have inevitably panicked and Mike thought he would have enjoyed seeing it. It scared him that he would have enjoyed seeing another human being suffer and die in front of him, but he imagined that Rachel must have panicked, too. Likely, she would have cried and pleaded for it to stop. It was an unbearable thought. "He hurt you," he said gently. "And it takes time to heal from that. I love you, Rach. And I love our baby. Sex is barely even a concern for me when we have Abby to raise."

Rachel sniffled. "I really want to believe you," she whispered. "But I've seen the way you look at Quinn and I know better."

Mike and Quinn glanced at one another. They both sighed.

"Rach, baby," Mike said softly. "Yes, of course I love Quinn. It's hard not to love someone who loves Abby as much as Quinn does. I love Santana and Brittany for the same reason."

"Yeah," Quinn said quietly. "And seeing how Mike loves Abby, the way he treats you both-- of course I love Mike."

"But I think it's more than that," Rachel softly. "I've seen the way you look at one another, and you don't look at Brittany and Santana like that. If you…you both want to become physical with one another …please don't…don't stop because of me. I-I love you both and I just want you both…" Rachel sniffed. "To be happy. Because you both make me happy."

"Rach, relationships aren't just about sex."

"I know, Mike," she said. "But sex is an integral part of a relationship and I-I think that between the three of us, we could meet everyone's needs."

Even though sex was really the least of anyone's concerns, the Mike/Rachel dyad became a Mike/Quinn/Rachel triad.

\--

Year 2015-2016

Abby said her first word when she was nine months old-- "papa."

Abby was a daddy's girl from the beginning-- the mere sight of him could make Abby smile and squeal happily. After she said 'papa,' she started talking a lot more. She began saying "hair pretty" every few minutes because that's what Santana called hair ties, at least, when the hair ties were in Abby's hair. Abby called Rachel and Santana "mama" interchangeably, which destroyed Quinn even if she never admitted to it. The jealousy was pointless on her part because Abby adored Quinn and often clamored for her attention. Abby seemed particularly fond of Brittany and loved pulling on the blonde's hair. There were nights when Brittany schlepped across town just to put Abby to bed because she was the only one who could get Abby to settle down when she was riled up.

The sad truth was that even if Abby was not made in love, she was loved and wanted. And the five of them had a friendly competition for Abby's attention. They didn't have a lot of money, but a lot of people loved that baby. There were five people whose lives completely revolved around her life. She never lacked for attention.

\--

Rachel started to mark the passage of time by Abby's doctor appointments and developmental milestones.

The rape didn't _ruin_ her entire life-- she had good days and bad days just like everyone else, and with a daughter to enjoy, she could hardly say she was unhappy. She had a sweet girlfriend, a kind boyfriend and two really close friends in Santana and Brittany. Her parents were supportive, even if they were still a little disappointed, and she was doing well in school. Mike's parents and grandparents loved Abby, and they seemed to have warmed to her, too. She was going out on auditions and even winning a few roles. She had a workstudy job in the campus library and another job waitressing with Santana at the Olive Garden. She was doing her best to support herself and Abby, and she thought she was doing a decent job of it. She couldn't say there was really anything so wrong with her life.

But the assault changed the way she looked at the world. She was never naïve enough to believe that people were intrinsically good, but she was naïve enough to believe that truly bad things couldn't happen to her. She had a tendency to always try to prepare for the worst-- growing up, her fathers always had an emergency kit in their closet in the event of some kind of emergency. Her fathers used to take her to gun ranges when she was young-- not because they were gun nuts or anything. They just wanted her to know how to use one, just in case. They enrolled her in a few self-defense classes so that she'd have some basic knowledge-- not that it did her a lot of good. She just thought if she was prepared enough, and took proper precautions, she would be okay. She didn't take unnecessary risks-- she considered herself to be pretty boring. She didn't think something so bad could happen to someone as boring as she thought herself to be.

Her world was completely off its axis now--she was afraid of anyone she didn't know. She sensed danger everywhere-- she was, as her therapist called it, hypervigilant. But it was an exhausting way to live. She was tired most of the time.

She and Quinn both graduated from college, and Quinn moved into the city. Another apartment in Rachel's building opened up, and Quinn moved into it. To be closer to Santana and everyone else, Brittany moved in with Quinn. Quinn, Rachel and Mike discussed moving in together, but Rachel realized she could not bear to be apart from Santana. Santana simply made her feel safe. Perhaps it was wrong to use Santana as her security blanket, but all Rachel knew was that when she woke up in the middle of the night, terrified and sweaty, it was comforting to know that Santana was in the next bed. Rachel felt ill-equipped to protect her baby from the world when she herself was terrified of it. For as long as she and Santana had been friends, Rachel felt a little less scared of the world knowing Santana had her back. It was nice to have everyone in the same building-- they all moved between the apartments at will, so it was like living in a dorm, but instead of being around assholes they didn't like, it was just with people they loved.

Rachel always thought the adage about time healing all wounds was just a way to keep the irrevocably damaged from committing suicide. But the passage of time did help a little-- she could not deny that, and she realized clichés became clichés for a reason. It wasn't simply time that helped her-- it was therapy, medication, loving partners and supportive friends. It was knowing she had a baby to live for. The world was frightening, and there was a lot to be afraid of. But she realized that even if bad things were to happen, she could live through them. And that if bad things did happen, she had people who loved her to support her.

It wasn't some miraculous realization that made everything better, but it gave her hope. Sex slowly stopped being so scary again and she realized that while it wasn't the most important thing in a relationship, it was still pretty vital. Mike and Quinn were both patient and Rachel finally felt normal again. It's not that Rachel thought having sex made a person "normal." She knew there were people who weren't very sexual and were very happy with that. But she'd _liked_ sex, and not having it made her very _unhappy_. It was only when she became able to have sex again without panicking, wanting to cry or having flashback, that she felt better about herself. Her sex life still wasn't very robust, and Mike and Quinn didn't want Rachel to feel left out, so their sex lives with one another weren't particularly robust either. But at least there was progress.

She realized that this was actually the life she used to dream of-- living in New York, having a stable relationship (two, actually!) and wonderful friendships. Having a NYADA education not only improved her talent but gave her opportunities to network with the university's famous alumni. While she was in school, she'd participated in as many of the school-wide performances as possible and went on as many auditions as she could. After graduation, she hit the pavement and pursued roles as aggressively as possible while still being able to spend time with Abby.

She found that after everything she'd experienced over the past couple years, she could handle rejection a little better. Even when people were derisive about her appearance or talent, it didn't hurt her as much as it would have when she was younger. If anything could came out of something so horrific, it was that she was more resilient than she thought she was capable of being.

\--

Mike and Santana each graduated from NYADA the year after Rachel. That June, Quinn moved out of her apartment and into Rachel's, while Brittany stayed in theirs. Santana moved out and moved in with Brittany while Mike gave up his apartment to move in with Quinn and Rachel. By then, Rachel realized she didn't need to live with Santana to still have the other girl in her life. She'd learned that she could do it on her own if she needed to-- she was strong enough, but she was blessed because even if she could do it by herself, she didn't _have_ to.

The apartment manager was blunt with them: "you people are turning this building into Melrose Place."

It was kind of true, but it was an over simplification, and it made their lives seem way more tawdry than they actually were. The other people in the building thought they were some sort of sex cult because of the way they freely moved between the apartments, but really, they had totally normal lives.

Of course, when both Rachel and Quinn got pregnant one drunken night, that only heightened their 'Melrose Place'-esque reputation. This time, they all had to admit they'd been irresponsible. They had sex pretty consistently with one another by then and were usually very careful, but they allowed themselves to be swept up in drunken revelry one night. After their pregnancies were confirmed, there was no discussion of whether or not to keep the pregnancies-- there were no options. They were all working and even though they all knew resources were tight, they also felt it was doable.

There was another trip back to Lima, and although they were all nervous, the trip was more joyous than the last time there was a return home to announce a pregnancy.

Quinn had been fearful of her mother's reaction, but Judy surprised her by being very happy about it.

"We can raise this one, Quinnie," Judy said, eyes shining. "We can raise all of them."

Mike's parents were clearly exasperated.

"Michael," his father stated. "When God said to be 'fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth,' I don't think you should have interpreted that quite so literally. You are not responsible for the survival of the human species."

Mike's mother nodded her agreement. "Do you plan to continue to be this prolific?"

Rachel's parents were obviously frustrated.

"This _again_?"

But this time, their frustration was sort of justified and it hurt less this time. It seemed their parents all struggled to accept the polyamorous nature of their relationship than the fact Quinn and Rachel were pregnant. No one's parents were happy about the pregnancies, but when the children were born, _everyone_ was happy.

\--

When Rachel was pregnant with Sarah and Quinn was pregnant with Benjamin, they were able to contrast their second pregnancies with their first. With their first pregnancies, they'd been unable to enjoy them. With their second pregnancies, they were able to enjoy the prospect of motherhood. There were nicknames for the growing babies inside them-- "the peapod" for Sarah and "the peach" for Benjamin after their doctor told Rachel, "huh, your baby is the size of a peapod" at her six-week appointment and "your baby is the size peach" at Quinn's thirteen week appointment. With all the joy and excitement of their second pregnancies, it hurt a little to know what they'd both missed out on the first time around. Nicknames for unborn babies were nothing new, but Rachel never got to experience that with Abby and it was a simple, but life-affirming pleasure. Quinn had secretly referred to Beth as "Drizzle" for the entirety of her pregnancy, but she didn't get to enjoy it the way she enjoyed her pregnancy with Ben. Knowing she'd be able to keep this baby made every less-than-pleasurable moment of the pregnancy worth it.

It wasn't long after Sarah and Benjamin were born that Rachel saw Gabriel Zhou's face emblazoned in the Metro section of the newspaper. She broke out into a cold fear-sweat, until she realized he'd died while drunkenly horsing around near the train platform.

She took no joy in it. The world was probably a little safer without him in it, and she assumed he was probably a waste of carbon. But she thought about how his family might feel-- she thought of his parents, specifically, and she felt a little sorry for them. She had three kids and she knew no matter what they did, she would always love them. She planned on keeping her kids as safe as possible to save them from turning into horrible humans beings, but even if they did something bad, she knew she would always love them.

She wasn't happy Gabe Zhou was dead. There were no winners when someone died-- not even if that person was horrible human being. It was a loss that diminished everyone. She thought about what happened to Gabe to turn him into such a horrible person and she wished someone could have stepped in to stop him from turning into who he became. But that window closed, and that was too bad.

For her part, Rachel thought her primary commandment was to teach her children well and to make sure they grew into good people. She was a mom now, and while she still wanted some of the same things she did when she was a teenager-- to play Fanny Brice on Broadway, to be an EGOT winner and to have fame and adulation, now she wanted to make sure she raised good kids. She didn't need her kids to become the President of the United States or to cure cancer or whatever. She just wanted them to be good people-- sometimes, just being a good person could make the world a more decent place. And Rachel wanted the world to be a more decent place for the people she loved.


	14. Chapter 14

**Year 2020**

Nearly a year and half after the accident, Rachel was finally ready to go back to work. Her agent had been gently suggesting projects for a while, but Rachel hadn't felt ready before. Even after she was physically ready, she wanted to focus more on the children and Quinn. She could never get back the lost memories or make up the time she'd lost while she was in her coma, but she could make new memories. When she thought about it strictly mathematically, she'd only lost 24 years of her memories. The average life expectancy for a non-smoking woman in the industrialized world was about 81 years. She potentially had fifty-seven more years of memories. Or she could die tomorrow by getting hit by an errant toilet seat from a de-orbiting space station. The point was, she had no control over things like that and she had no control over if and when she'd ever get her memories back. She couldn't dwell on loss, she'd just have to move on with her life.

Soon enough, she found herself wanting to get back to work. She couldn't remember working, of course, but she thought if she loved it that much once, she would probably still love it.

Her first project after the accident was a stage adaptation of a defunct TV show, _Pushing Daisies_. She'd been skeptical at first, because she wasn't sure how the show's premise would translate to the stage. But once she met with the director, and tested with other actors, she felt confident that there was something special. Something wonderful was happening.

Her return to the stage apparently piqued renewed media interest in her, but not in her talent or work-- in her personal life, which kind of creeped her out. She'd become accustomed to media curiosity-- Quinn's television show was doing well, so it wasn't uncommon for the paparazzi to snap pictures of them or the children when they were out in public. Santana, Brittany and Mike were all gaining success as well, so she was accustomed to having the public and the media be interested in _them_. But having them interested in _her_ was sort of strange.

She'd primarily worked on stage prior to the accident, and there didn't seem to be that much interest in Broadway actors by the paparazzi, but she's apparently had Tony buzz around her for the show she was in before their lives were turned upside down. News of her accident was reported by most media outlets considering the success of her last show, but she wasn't popular enough as an actress for the media to continue reporting on her condition. Her recovery had largely been private. So, it was a little strange to her that they would be interested in her now. They wanted the lurid details of her life, particularly the amnesia-- and that was kind of insulting. She didn't grant them anything.

She was happy to find that she _loved_ to perform. This was the career path that she wanted for herself, and it also made her feel a little better about who she was now. Even though she couldn't remember what she was like before, she felt like she couldn't be that different from who she'd once been if she still loved the same things.

\--

She was in a Starbucks on the way to a rehearsal when an attractive blonde grabbed her by the arm.

"Schwimmer. Long time no see."

Rachel blinked and smiled pleasantly. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I think you may have my confused with someone else. My name is not Schwimmer."

The blonde chuckled. "I heard about your accident." Her smile was wry. "But that was last year. What, you're trying to claim amnesia?"

Rachel blinked. "Yes, actually."

Amnesia was pretty absurd, but it was also real.

The blonde laughed but stopped when she saw Rachel wasn't laughing. "Are you fucking for real?"

Rachel smiled crookedly. "Sorry."

\--

Rachel had a little time before she had to leave, so she sat down with the woman for a bit to chat.

The woman was a former professor of hers-- Cassandra July. Apparently, Rachel had only had her for one year, but she'd made some kind of impression on the other woman. Rachel wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

"So, how bad is the amnesia?"

Rachel gave a slight shrug. She didn't know who this woman was, so she wasn't going to reveal too much. She'd learned better by now.

"Bad, huh?" Cassandra said softly.

"I'm trying not to be bitter."

Cassandra chuckled. "You were always such a Pollyanna," she said sardonically.

Rachel smiled. "I supposed I don't see the point in being bitter about things I cannot change."

Cassandra smirked. "Being bitter enough that everyone else is miserable so that one's own bitterness is diminished is one of life's undervalued pleasures, Schwimmer. You should try that sometime."

Rachel frowned. "Why do you keep calling me that? Are you sure you know me?"

"I've always called you Schwimmer, Schwim. I'm not going to stop now."

"But what does it mean?"

Cassandra laughed. "Google it. You may be brain damaged, but you aren't brain dead."

Rachel smiled crookedly. "I suppose I will." She cleared her throat."I need to get to rehearsal," she said. "But I'd like to give you my number," she said brightly. "Do you think we could meet again when we both have more free time? I think you'd probably give me a more realistic sense of who I was than my girlfriend and my best friends."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "You think so, huh?"

Rachel shrugged.

"There's not much I can tell you. You were a tiny pain in the ass, kid. You probably still are. But I always knew you would make it."

Rachel smiled and scrawled her phone number on a napkin and passed it to Cassandra. "I'm a hundred percent certain now that we didn't like one another, but I think we can start over now, don't you?" She smiled again and left. She needed more people in her life who were going to always look at her in the silver-lining.

Quinn didn't seem very enthusiastic when Rachel told her about it later that night, but she wasn't opposed to it, either.

A few months later, when her show had its opening night, Rachel sent a couple of tickets to Cassandra July to the NYADA campus. She was happy to see that Cassandra showed up.

\--

Rachel's show performed well-- it was critically acclaimed and audiences appeared to love it. And really, what was not to love? Bright colors, characters bursting spontaneously into song, and pie. Maybe for some people that sounded like a nightmare-- _deranged_ and _sad_ people. But she was a normal person and she'd love it if her real life was filled with bright colors, pie and characters bursting into song. The only thing that would make that alternate universe even better was flash mobs in the rain.

She thought it was fitting she would play a character who was once dead and brought back to life. The downside to the hoopla surrounding her show was that her personal life was unfortunately brought to the public eye, whether or not she wanted to grant interviews. Her medical records were leaked to the TMZ and even though the people responsible were punished, it was still awful to have people comment on her medical records and speculating on the lingering problems she would face for the rest of her life as a consequence. She refused to comment on it though. It was hard enough to live her life when she'd forgotten most of it, she didn't feel like giving people more ammunition.

\--

She started to write songs-- something she apparently hadn't done since high school. The music just came to her and she found her way into the studio to record. It eventually turned into a family project-- Santana, Brittany, Mike and Quinn each came into the studio with her to sing a song. Then Mike's wife, Tina, expressed interest in singing a duet with her on the album Tina was releasing since they'd sang 'What a Feeling' together in high school. It went so well on Tina's album that Rachel wanted a song with Tina on her own album. By the time it was done, it could hardly be called a "solo" album-- it was a true labor of love by their family. She was really proud of it by the time it was done.

She wasn't even finished with the solo album and she got inspired to record an album of cover songs. But she really wanted to record it with Quinn. Of all the people she sang with, the person she loved to sing with most was Quinn. Their voices just blended well together.

Rachel was literally looking into Quinn's eyes while they were singing Peter Gabriel's 'In Your Eyes,' when she thought to herself, 'you should marry this girl.' It wasn't the first time she thought so, but she'd always pushed the thoughts away. She'd always felt like it wasn't the right time to ask. She wasn't physically recuperating from the accident anymore, but she had to admit that sometimes, she still felt very feeble-minded. She didn't want Quinn to feel obliged to say yes. Rachel was well aware she would be saddling Quinn with loads of obligations to take care of her and she didn't want to trap Quinn by marrying her. But when they sang "Come Home" by OneRepublic, she realized how badly she wanted to ask. It was a compulsion she couldn't shake.

They were in the middle of singing The Supremes "I Hear a Symphony" when she just couldn't take it anymore.

"Marry me," Rachel breathed.

"I hear a sympho--wait, what?"

The music continued to play on. "Marry me," Rachel breathed. She didn't even have a ring to give Quinn yet, but she couldn't take it weighing on her anymore.

Quinn smiled. "Okay."

They took home the recording of Rachel's impromptu proposal for posterity, and within two weeks, they each had rings on their fingers.

Quinn's mother was ecstatic. "Quinnie, you know I've wanted to be the mother of the bride in a commitment ceremony since the day you brought Rachel home. But you really should have done this before the children were born."

Quinn suppressed the desire to roll her eyes, even though they were on the phone, because it was rude to roll one's eyes at one's mother. But seriously, her mother was just _too much_ sometimes. Her mom was a member of PFLAG, and had been pushing her to make things official with Rachel even when they were still in a relationship with Mike. But it was nice that her mom was so supportive. She'd spent years believing if she ever came out to her mother, her mom would disown her. She didn't regret keeping it a secret from her mother for years-- she'd been looking out for herself and there was no reason to be ashamed of wanting to come out _safely_. Everyone pushed for being out and proud like _everyone_ had that luxury. But she hadn't felt like she could come out.

If she had to give advice to someone else who was afraid of coming out, she'd probably tell them that it was okay to be afraid and to hide it if they were looking out for their own best interest like she had. But she'd also tell that hypothetical person that sometimes people could be surprising, and when she finally came out to her mother, it was when she felt safe enough to do it _and_ her mother had surprised her with how good she was about it.

"Well, of course she was good about it," Santana said with a chuckle. "I told your dim blond ass that your mom knew you were a big ol' gaymo. Remember when she went on that gay cruise with Rach's dads during Thanksgiving that first year of college? That's when you should have known she was good with it."

Quinn laughed. She will always need Santana in her life. Santana was the person she went to when she needed unconditional support that wasn't delivered in some treacly syrupy way that would make her cry. She and Santana had their disagreements, but if something ever happened to her, she knew Santana would watch out for Rachel and the kids. That kind of friendship was too precious to end over minor disagreements.

\--

"Rachel and Quinn are finally getting married," Santana told Brittany over dinner that night.

"I know, Rach texted me," Brittany said with a smile. "It's really about time. They have three kids together. Neither of them are going anywhere."

Santana laughed. "I know, rights."

"Yeah," Brittany snorted. "Suckers."

Santana chuckled. "It started to look like it was never going to happen, didn't it? I'm happy for them."

"Are you?" Brittany asked softly.

"Of course I am," Santana said with a frown. "How could you even ask me that."

Brittany shrugged. "Sometimes I get the feeling that you wished you were with Rachel instead of me."

Santana's eyes narrowed. "Why would you even say that to me?"

"Because it's how I feel."

It was true that it took Santana a long time to get over Rachel. She needed Rachel in her life, but Brittany had always been the one she wanted. It was especially hard to lose Rachel because of Abby-- she'd practically raised Abby and transitioning from mother to godmother when Rachel and Quinn finally got back together was hard. But she had no other choice, and it wasn't something she was bitter about. But having experienced what it was like to raise a baby, she wanted kids she could call her own. Still, Santana thought everyone was exactly where they should be, with the person they should be with. There was no question in Santana's mind, and really, given the fact that Brittany refused to have kids with her for a reason as murky and vague as "just not ready," Santana thought she should be the one with doubts.

"I love _you_ , Brit," Santana said softly. "I always wanted us to end up together."

"You know if we have kids, they may not turn out like Abby or Ben or Sarah," Brittany said quietly.

Santana blanched. "What?"

Where the hell did that come from?

"Our kids aren't going to be like Quinn and Rachel's," Brittany said softly. "We could have a whole football team, but it's possible none of them are going to turn out like Abby."

"Brit-- I don't want kids because I want a replacement for Abby. I'm happy enough being her godmother with you. I want kids because I love _you_ and I think it'd be amazing to have a family with you."

Brittany worried her lower lip thoughtfully. "I know how much you love Abby, San."

"I love all the kids, Brit."

"But Abby is different. She's special to you. You were practically Abby's mom for two years."

"Rachel had a hard time at first--that's it," Santana said softly, feeling a little defensive as she did any time that period was brought up. When she thought back to that difficult time, it still hurt. She wondered if there would ever be a time when she could just remember that it hurt, instead of it hurting all over again.

"I know," Brittany said quietly. "Anyone would after what happened to her with Gabriel Zhou."

Santana did a double-take, startled. "You know about that?"

Brittany smiled sadly. "I'm dumb, but I'm not stupid."

"You aren't dumb," Santana said.

It was an old argument that wasn't going to go anywhere, and neither of them were about to have it out. But Santana wasn't going to just let it slide.

"Rachel wouldn't have gotten pregnant just by accident back then," Brittany remembered. "She wasn't dating Mike or any other guys-- Mike didn't have the nerve to ask her out. When Mike and I dated, I asked _him_ out. And she went out with that Gabe Zhou guy and everything changed after that. I just always assumed Gabe was the one who got Rachel pregnant and Mike stepped up because Gabe was worthless."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Santana asked quietly. The secret had weighed on her for a long time. It didn't feel good to keep things from Brittany, but Rachel wanted the minimal number of people to know.

"You didn't tell me," Brittany said softly. "And Rachel obviously didn't want me to know."

"She was just so ashamed, Brit."

"I know," Brittany said. "I wanted to say something, but I thought it would make things worse for her. And I've wanted to tell you that I knew for years, but I just couldn't find the right time. I knew you were stepping up and I loved you so much for that."

"I was so afraid you were jealous."

"I was," Brittany said. "But I knew I shouldn’t be. It's just that sometimes, I'm still jealous. I know you aren't in love with either of them, but I still have times when I feel like you wished you stayed with Rachel instead of me."

"I want kids with you, Brit," Santana said softly. She sighed. "And if you never want kids--" she sighed. "I'll be sad about it, I'm not going to lie. But I love you, Brittany, and you are the only person I could give that up for-- if I have you as my girlfriend, I'll be happy to just be a godmother."

Brittany swallowed hard, because she wanted to give Santana everything. But she simply wasn't ready to have kids yet. Yet being the operative word. "I'm not ready to have kids yet," she whispered. "But I do want them, S. It's just that there's a lot more I want us to do-- and it'll be harder to do that stuff with kids. And I want use to be able to have sex really loud without worrying about being quiet so kids don't overhear us. I know maybe it's immature or whatever, but I'm _honestly_ not ready. It has nothing to do with doubts. I don' t have any." She smiled and reached for Santana's hand. "I promise-- just give me two more years. And then we can start."

Santana smiled brightly. "Okay," she whispered.

\--

Santana called Quinn the next day.

"Brit said we can start trying to have kids in two years," she informed. "When Brit said she wasn't ready, she meant she wasn't ready. She still has stuff she wants to do before we have kids."

Quinn chuckled. "You should have just communicated with her, you know."

"Yeah, says the woman who used to communicate her feelings with Slushies."

"Haha, San," Quinn said dryly. She paused. "We are our own worst enemies."

"It's a good thing we tricked some girls into loving us."

Quinn laughed. " _You_ tricked. _I_ wore mine down."

Santana snickered. "Yeah, wearing her down was the only way you were ever going to get a girl as cute as Rach to stick around, Q."

Quinn laughed heartily at that. "Hey," she called out.

"Yeah?"

"I'm trying to beat Rachel to this-- will you be my maid of honor?"

Santana laughed. "I'm sorry, Q. Your girl is faster than you are. She asked me the day she asked you to marry her."

Quinn tittered. "That brat," she commented fondly. "I'll call Brit and ask her to be _my_ maid of honor." She bowed her head and smiled shyly, happy they were talking on the phone and that Santana couldn't see her grinning like a doofus. "We couldn't have made it through all this without you and Brit," she said softly. "Thank you for everything."

"You don't have to thank me, you doof," Santana said gruffly, swallowing the hard lump in her throat. "I love you, your midget and your merry little band of munchkins."

"I'll love your 'little munchkins' once you have them," Quinn said. "I can't wait." She paused. "But I kind of hope that Brit will give the egg and you carry the baby. It'll really be the best of both worlds. The baby will look like Brit and I can make fun of you for getting fat."

"I hate you, Fabray."

"I'll love you even more when I can call you 'Tubbers,' Santana."

\--

They didn't have a long engagement because, well, what would be the point in that?

They took two months to plan the wedding, but it wasn't intended to be a huge deal.

It was small-- just their closest family and friends, but as they made their vows before God and their family and friends, Quinn realized that she was finally a peace with herself. She knew that didn't mean her life would be without future pain or struggle. But she realized that in the aftermath of Rachel's accident, she'd finally reconciled herself with everything.

She reconciled herself with her deepest regret-- Beth, because she could see with her own eyes that the baby she'd carried and held only for a few minutes grew into a happy, beautiful child. She reconciled herself with her own past--she still loved her father even if she didn't have a relationship with him and had a good relationship with both her mother and sister, which was likely the most she could realistically hope for with her family of origin. She had reconciled herself with God. Their pastor said something that resonated with Quinn--God doesn't want anyone to be perfect, God wants people to be brave and there was nothing braver than loving without fear. There were still many things Quinn feared, but she was unafraid to love Rachel and the kids. She didn't care who knew it.

She was content with her life-- she had a wife; healthy, gorgeous children; good friends and a good career. She'd finally made it-- her life was far from perfect, but she didn't want anything more than what she had.

She made a silent promise to make sure Rachel would find similar peace. Rachel was still struggling to figure her place in the world, and Quinn had already pledged to be by her side while she figured it out.

\--

Quinn shared a dance with Santana during the reception to an Annie Lennox song. It'd been a long time since Quinn slow-danced to "Why" with Santana, but she found that it still felt natural and familiar.

"Sometimes I think about what would have happened if you and I stayed together," Quinn whispered quietly.

This wasn't a confession of lingering romantic love, it was just idle conversation.

"Me, too, Fabray," Santana said. "We would have taken over the world by now."

Quinn smiled. "Damn straight. Or killed each other."

Santana laughed. "Probably." She went quiet for a long moment before she spoke again. "I think we could have worked out," she said softly. "But we're both where we should be. You never would have been as happy with anyone as you are with Rachel, and I would never have been as happy with anyone as I am with Brit."

Quinn beamed at her. "I'm happy. Don't get it wrong."

Santana grinned. "Good, because you were always a morose bitch, Fabray."

Rachel was suddenly by their side-- the girl was incapable of stealthy except accidentally. "May I cut in?" she asked.

"Sure, boo," Santana said. She stepped aside.

Rachel reached for Santana and they laughed together at Quinn's pout. Rachel gently hip-checked Santana. "I get jealous, boo."

Rachel grabbed Quinn's waist and hugged the blonde happily while Santana graciously stepped aside and gazed fondly for a moment at her happy friends before walking away to find her hot girlfriend.

"I'll always choose you," Rachel whispered. "You are all I know." She tightened her hold. "You are all I _want_ to know. I love you, wife."

Quinn hugged her back. "I love you, too, wife," she replied softly.

\--

They each shared a dance with Mike, and Quinn thought about how lucky she was that this was the father of her children. He was a better man than her own father, and she knew he would never treat her children the way her father treated her. He would love them unconditionally and protect them at whatever cost. The end of their relationship with Mike had been amicable, but painful. She was glad they'd been able to spare their children from that. And she was glad that he'd found his way back to Tina who loved the kids like they were her own.

As she danced with her bride and their children, Quinn thought of Deuteronomy 28:2. _All these blessings will come upon you and accompany you if you obey the Lord your God._ Of course, there were some people who believed she was _defying_ God, but she'd tried for years to be a good person and she could not deny that she was very, very blessed.

 

The most painful moments of her life and her hardest struggles have always been followed by her greatest joys. Maybe it was the will of God or just an accident in the design of the universe that things happened that way. But it just seemed like the worst thing a person could do was to believe bad things lasted forever or to lose faith in the possibility of hope. Life could be ugly, and Quinn knew that something would come along sooner or later to kick her ass. But she was Quinn Fabray and Quinn Fabray was still the sort of person to be her own worst enemy and assume the worst about people. She had to think twice before she did any action because her first instincts were still the type to completely destroy her life. But Quinn Fabray never went down without a fight.

She smiled at her family. She had a lot to lose. If she was going to go down, she'd go down swinging. And she'd rise up with fists.

That was a promise.

Epilogue

The Best of Everything: Interview with Abigail Chang  
By: Stephanie Rice

Harbinger Magazine, December 2040

Abigail Chang, 26, is literally Hollywood royalty. Her mothers are Rachel and Quinn Berry-Fabray who have four Tony Awards, three Grammy Awards, two Oscars and seven Emmy awards between them. They may be the only married couple in which each person is the holder of the coveted EGOT. Her father is Mike Chang, who has been the principal dancer for the New York City Ballet, American Ballet Theatre and is now the artistic director for the Los Angeles Ballet. Her stepmother is A-lister Tina Chang, an award-winning actress and singer. Her godparents are Brittany and Santana Lopez, also A-list award winning actresses and singers. Last year, her family had the distinction in which her parents, stepmother and godparents were all nominated for Emmy Awards and won in a dynastic sweep. Abby's brother, Benjamin Chang is a cellist who's been deemed his generation's Yo-Yo Ma. Her sister, Sarah Chang, has followed in their father's footsteps and is a dancer for the Joffrey Ballet. Her godsisters are Molly Pierce-Lopez whose album just went certified platinum and Alicia Pierce-Lopez, the super-genius who graduated from college at fifteen last year and is now making strides in cancer research. She is also a part-time model. Abby dishes about her family, her childhood and her career.

Stephanie Rice: So, is your family actually trying to take over the world? Or is all this success just coincidental?

Abigail Chang: We're trying to take over the world. My mother wants to canonize Barbra Streisand, and she thinks this is the only way

Rice: It seems like a pretty extreme tactic to accomplish a singular goal

Chang: Have you met my mother? 'Extreme' is a kind way to describe her when she wants something.

Rice [laughs]: We’ve met, and I would describe her more as driven. So, if you could emulate one of your parents' careers, whose would it be?

Chang: None. My family is very straight-edge. I'd like to emulate Robert Downey, Jr.'s career, just to see if I could burn bridges and make some awful movies before making a comeback. A little adversity is good for your complexion. Too much adversity makes you look like a crystal meth addict. At least, if one were to believe my godmother.

Rice: Your mother, Rachel, was in an accident when you were little and lost her memory. She never got it back. What was that like?

Chang: My family never commented on that, and it's been more than 20 years now.

Rice: You don't have to give too much detail. What was it like for _you_?

Chang: I don't remember, to be honest. I was young when it happened. I think I was about five. My brother and sister were even younger. I still have a few memories of what my mom was like before the accident, but mostly, all I know of my mother is what she's been like after the accident. I don't remember her being all that different though. I know my parents did a really good job of trying to protect us from knowing anything was wrong. I think we had really great childhoods. I remember thinking when I was fifteen or sixteen that I have a really great life.

Rice: Children's Services were called when you were eight, alleging that your mother was incapable of caring for you and your siblings because of her brain injury. Do you remember what that was like?

Chang: I do, and I'm still bitter about it. Once they came out and saw the way we lived, they knew it was bogus. I think people like to confuse my parents' kindness for stupidity, but that is a very lethal mistake to make. With my mother, especially, people have tried to take advantage of her for years-- particularly the more famous she gets, though I can't imagine how any of my parents or godparents could get any _more_ famous than they are now [laughs]. My mother is trusting, but she's not gullible. I have great mothers, and my dad is the best man I know. I would be lucky if I ever found a man like my dad. My stepmother is amazing-- when they moved into their new house last year, she made sure that even _I_ had a bedroom there. I'm 26! [laughs] And my godmothers treat me like I'm one of their own kids. My family is just amazing and I can't imagine that anyone would have loved me or taken better care of me than my family. And if there's anything people should have figured out by now, you mess with one member of my family, you mess with my _entire_ family. And we're all crazy. My godmother fights _kids_ , you know.

Rice [laughs]: That's right. Your godmother, Santana Lopez, was arrested once when she picked a fight with a kid at a park who was picking on you when you were six. Does she still get into fights over you?

Chang: That was so overblown. She didn't pick a fight, that kid was really pushing it. She only told that kid "I fight kids," but she didn't pick a fight. And she wasn't arrested, a cop just talked to her. And yes, my godmother is still the person in my family most likely to need a lawyer and an alibi. But I love my godmother. Every time I see her, she still sneaks, like, $20 into my pocket, even though my parents have been telling her not to do that for years. But she steals my hair pretties.

Rice: Hair pretties?

Chang: Hair ties. My godmother used to call hair ties 'hair pretties' for as long as I can remember. I guess to entertain me or something. I still call it that.

Rice: You've done a lot of work on theatre and on TV. Which do you prefer?

Chang: Theatre. I am my mother's daughter.

Rice: Would you ever want to work with any of your parents professionally?

Chang: No. We aren't the Partridge Family.

Rice: You've largely stayed away from the party-girl image that other actresses of your generation are known for.

Chang: That's not a question.

Rice: Well, more of a comment leading to a discussion.

Chang: Have you met my family? They are a little intense. They'd never tolerate it. It's why I could never actually be Robert Downey, Jr. I understand the temptation to push limits and experiment, but I have my brothers and sister with my dad and stepmom and I'm expected to be a good role model for them. And of course, my godsisters. They're getting older and Sarah, Ben and I are expected to set a good example since we're the oldest kids in the family. And anyway, I can't imagine disappointing my family like that-- they weren't always these A-list celebrities walking the red carpet. When I was born, they were all still in college and living in a one-bedroom apartment. My parents have all done so much with so little, basically starting from scratch. Just having the family name behind me already gives me a leg-up on other people. Why would I want to jeopardize that by getting a DUI or flashing my vagina to the paparazzi. By the way, 'Flashing My Vagina' is the name of my godsister, Molly's, next single.

Rice [laughs]: Your parents and godparents all are married to their high school sweethearts. What's the secret to your family's relationship longevity?

Chang: [deadpans] It's a secret. [laughs]. I don't think there's anything secret about it. My moms' relationship is well-documented, as is my dad's relationship with my step-mom and my godmothers' relationship. They've all raised me to be respectful and considerate. I've never seen any of them be disrespectful to one another and this doesn't mean that I haven't seen my fair share of arguments-- because I have. It's just that even when they're fighting, I know they love one another. I think that's how they're all still in love and married. It has nothing to do with date nights and open communication and keeping the bedroom a sanctuary or crap like that. I think the secret to their relationships are that they treat each other in a way that they know they love one another.

Rice: Easier said than done

Chang: [laughs]. Yeah, I know. The yogurt in my fridge lasts longer than _my_ relationships.

Rice: [laughs]. About that…

Chang: [groans] I just like to the toe the line between fighting for what I want and not wasting my time. I think my parents raised me pretty well in that regard to know when to fight. Believe me, if I thought my relationship was worth fighting for, I'd be a fucking pugilist. My parents have taught me that when it's important, you fight

Rice: Let's play a quick game.

Chang: Okay

Rice: Coffee or tea

Chang: Both-- in Hong Kong, they have this drink called Ying Yang and it’s coffee and tea mixed together with evaporated milk and sugar. My great-grandmother used to make it for me when I was little.

Rice: That's cheating, you have to choose one

Chang: Life's full of compromises

Rice: Okay. Barbra or your mother, Rachel

Chang: My mother is going to hate you for that. Expect to find her waiting for you when you get home

Rice: [laughs] I'll live. Your mother is tiny

Chang: My mother is _scrappy_. You have no idea. People think my mom is scary, but my mother is the one that will plot with charts and graphs and break you down. She's little, but her vengeance is vast and frightening.

Rice: You still have to choose

Chang: Ugh. Crap, okay. My mom. I'm sorry, mom. I know you love Barbra more than you love yourself, but you're just going to have to learn to cope

Rice: What's the best advice you've ever received?

Chang: To use the bathroom if you have the opportunity

Rice [laughs]: Anything else?

Chang: My mother told me that one. My mom says that it would have spared my mother about 50% of her most stressful moments.

Rice: So, really, anything else?

Chang: Um, to not ask a woman if she's expecting even if you think it's obvious and that fondue for two is more of a relationship date than a first date. But most importantly, and actually for real, to always listen to that voice inside you. When something feels right, it probably is, even if others tell you it's wrong. And if that voice tells you that something is not right, believe it.

-SR.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> 1a:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/98043.html  
> 1b:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/98199.html  
> 2a:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/98326.html  
> 2b:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/98957.html  
> 3a:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/99158.html  
> 3b:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/99448.html  
> 4a:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/99625.html  
> 4b:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/100013.html  
> 5:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/100318.html  
> 6a:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/100455.html  
> 6b:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/100747.html  
> 7a:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/101025.html  
> 7b:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/101136.html  
> 8 and Epilogue:http://sulkygeekff.livejournal.com/101412.html


End file.
